Want
by emme2323
Summary: Ried's found Luke slammed out of his mind, he grudgingly helps him out. But more ensues than they anticipated.An emotional tug of war.
1. Chapter 1

_Now, I'm trying as hard as I can to keep them in character. I hate it when I'm reading a story with these same characters' names but they are acting so completely unlike themselves. So picture Luke as himself and Reid as himself, no as some misplaced names performing odd sexual acts and randomly proposing to one another as I've seen in some. Please stick with me, good stuff will be coming up. I just can't do it without some semblance of a back story. The story takes place somewhere between when Dr. Oliver decides to take on Noah's case and before Texas. Hope ya like it. Reid = __**bold **__and Luke = regular._

The brisk air licked at the bangs that had fallen in my face as I burst out the back doors of Memorial Hospital. A cloudy and dismal day glowed miserably over me as I walked to I don't know where. It felt like I was always dealing with _something, _if it wasn't Noah it was my family, and this time it was both. I had an entire shipping company to my name without Damian to guide me any longer, I had a boyfriend who despised my being near him, two warring parents, and a doctor who couldn't stand me and was my last chance for Noah. I raked my hand through my mussed up hair and scuffed my shoes against the curb I walked parallel to. "Dammit."

**Breaks weren't really my forte. I don't take breaks. What for? To sit around and socialize with the insufferable neophytes of a sub-par hospital? Forgive me for not jumping on that opportunity. And being in the already ripe mood I was after having to deal with the angry blind guy, yeah, Noah—I really wasn't getting into this break. I'd watched this couple for weeks now and almost felt bad for the Luke character. Today, for instance: before walking in to perform the routine check up, I saw between the blinds an irritated Noah loudly reprimanding a retreating Luke. Something about trying to button his shirt for him? I don't know, the guy's blind…hardly seems like a capital offense to help him put his clothes on properly. The door swung open to reveal Luke, "Hope it goes well, then," he says lowly staring back at Noah, who remained silent. He swung his head around and met with my stare, "Oh," his stance is battered. How many times has this happened that he stands in acceptance? It's almost as if he's taking punishment for some crime.**

"**Umm, he's all set for yo—" **

"**Whatever, Mr. Snyder, move." Damn, did not mean to say that, "I don't recall, did I not tell you to shrink out of my sight and remove yourself from these halls before?" Double damn.**

**He stared at me for some odd number of uncomfortable seconds, then swiveled on his heel to head out without another word. His figure slowly grew smaller as he strode down the hall, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets.**

**Not three hours later, here I am attempting to take a break. The sticky smell of a hospital had become more my oxygen than that which flowed outside, but I felt a change of venue coming on. Being outside seemed appealing, no one around to force conversation with, no one to badger me with misguided questions, no Snyder to brood on… yes, outside seemed a fine thing. **

**I ended up out the back door; the front has always had an anxious feel. Every person walking in was awaiting something, from the fear stricken parents awaiting the fate of their son who'd been a victim of a car crash, to the grief stricken families trudging out after a loved one deceased—any story was hard to watch. The back offered more solitude, but who do I see when I tug open the doors but Luke Snyder.**

**He hasn't seen me, even though I stepped through the door and let it slide closed with a click. He's stopped with his back to me and is staring down the street before him. The way he stands is tight, like every muscle is tensed and he can't decide whether to bolt or collapse. Why does he look like that? I watch with my throat closed, this kid looks torn up by himself.**

I want to fly. I want to jump up and soar into nothing. I want to run. I want to run until the sidewalk ends and I fall into a mass of nothing. I want to do something just to bring on the nothing I so desperately need.

Suddenly I'm tired, like I've just finished a marathon and need something to lean on. The wall beckons my back to it and I oblige. The coarse bricks hiss against my suit jacket, as I tilt my head back with my eyes tightly shut.

My world's spinning out of the slight grip I had on it before, I need to forget about things…if only for a small time.

**He's been leaning against that wall for a solid 5 minutes doing nothing, but I keep watching. He's still wound up, I can see it in the way he holds his hands. They're each bent into hooks and are strapped solidly to his sides, only just touching the wall he's melded himself to.**

**His left arm reaches up and curls around the navy tie around his neck, for a second I think he'll tighten it just to suffocate the strain within him. But he tugs it down to a dropping form of itself and rips out three buttons like he wants to tear off the whole shirt.**

**I watch the boy slide slowly to the ground and realize I've had my fists clenched so tight, my palms burn.**

My heels skidded down as my butt hit the chilling side walk, the clatter of aluminum shakes my eyes open. 'Heineken' reads the battered can, not the best brew in the world but I have the deepest want that it be full. I want that liquid acceptance down my throat. Now. Unconsciously my hand reaches behind me and gropes at the bump of a scar where my kidney transplant lies. I rub it hard, like I can erase the only barrier to my release.

**He's grabbing at his back like he wants to take a chunk out of himself, his shirt lifts halfway out of his beltless trousers and smooth skin peaks shyly. My eyebrows drew together. **

**No lies, I've never denied it, I've always found this kid sexy—even in his broken state he exudes pheromones, but he looks intolerant of himself. He's gonna get hurt, and it's going to be by his own doing. I've stood here quietly diagnosing, in a way, and he just looks desperate. Someone needs to hold him together.**

**I take a step towards him, when his hoists himself up and grinds his fist into the wall. He pivots to walk down the road he had stared so forlornly down minutes before. I can tell from the speed and style he walks with a purpose in mind. I follow.**

I slapped my hands on the counter of the bar, as if to solidify that I was here. My skin pickled in anticipation, this would all be flushed away as soon as that foam touched my lips. The bartender notices me high and dry, he tugged over and asked, "What can I do for ya?"

I couldn't spit it out fast enough, "Whatever's on tap, I'll take." I'll take and take until my veins run brazen beer instead of blood red, then maybe my heart won't ache as painfully.

"I.D. kiddo."

Hah, Yo's knew my right of passage, I guess these idiots would know now too. I fished out a hundred and plopped it in his hand. He looked from Ben Franklin to me, then back to Ben. Like he was actually trying to identify me within the old Philadelphian's picture.

"I got contacts." He pocketed it. Well, well, not so different here are we now?

The thick, signature beer mug thumped in front of me, frosted with foam while little bubbles raced their way up from the bottom. I avoided the handle and gripped the whole thing and threw half of it down so quick you'd have thought I'd drank everyday—like I've wanted to. It cascaded down my throat in a symphony of ice cold perfection.

**I forcefully nudged some bandana wearing bear of a man out of my way as I waded into the steadily darkening bar. Damn crowded, well it **_**is **_**a Friday. I had a hell of a time chasing after the determined vestige making his way to god knows where. His arrow straight path abruptly curved straight into this bar. He wove through the toppling men like obstacles before his prize. His rumpled self claimed the last open bar stool with a slap. I stood back, shoulder to shoulder with other beer wielding bar flies, watching. **

**I didn't know Richie drank; he seemed as mainstream as they got. What, all that money burning a hole in his pocket? He was probably just here for a quick sip then to book it back out. But then again, maybe they won't have his preferred brand of champagne.**

**The bartender caught wind of the blonde and stepped over, the music pounded and rang so loudly I could feel the buzz of the speakers, no way was I going to make out what was going down. He held out his hand to Luke, it was quickly filled by a bill. My lips pressed together, underage. I propelled myself toward him using the mass of bodies around him, with full intention of knocking the glass he just gripped out of his 20 year old hand—when it struck me, why do I care?**

**The boy has nothing to do with me besides being the dumb ass who blackmails to get what he feels he deserves. I swung around n the same note and dug my way to the door.**

The third glass trickled down in smooth succession. I wasn't my own man anymore. Who am I? I dunno, but hey, here comes lucky number four.

**The soles of my shoes melted into the pavement not 3 feet from the bar, I stood stuck for minutes contemplating. Luke Snyder is in there. Luke Snyder may have more destructive intentions than anticipated. Well then, I guess I'm going to deal with Luke Snyder.**

**So I found myself in the same place as before, patrolling. His posture had slouched to the left, he rested heavily on his elbow. His right hand loosely holds the glass, in one languid motion he throws back his head and downs the drink in seconds flat.**

**I can't help my jaw slacken, watching Luke drain alcohol like a pro. He palms the now empty cup loudly to grab the attention of the bartender.**

**He's an oily sort of guy, slick with hair grease and apron tinged with polish he grabs the useless glass before Luke and says something. He cocked an eyebrow and drapes a hand on the counter, I can make out, "…maybe you…" and "…slow down…" Luke straightens in reaction and snaps back, his fingers crumple two bills this time. The bartender just rolls his dark Italian eyes and these two bills follow suit of the first, he strides away to fill up.**

The music that had battered my ears before washes through me like a heartbeat, the staleness of the air disintegrates, and the tug nettling in my skull has ceased. I don't know what number I'm on, six? Who the hell cares? But that friendly cup keeps visiting my lips. I can breathe again.

** I've seen him knock back three mugs now, with no promise of stopping. **

"**You," I call out as I draw to the counter. He thumbs to his chest, I nod. **

"**Can I help ya?" he asks after coming close enough to be heard. **

**I jerk my head towards Luke, "How much has that brat had?"**

**He turns, "Ahh, blondie?"**

"**Yea, who else did it look like I was pointing to?" I say impatiently.**

"**Whooh," he exhales, eyebrows climbing up his forehead, "the kid can drink, just topped off his eighth."**

"**Eighth." I state incredulously. "Cut him off, now." **

**He walks away in response. I head towards Luke. He's drawn one leg up to his chest and is balancing an arm atop it. He slowly tips the rims of his half full house beer to his mouth, eyes lightly shut, he takes one nice long draught and replaces the empty cup where it stood before. **

**His lips shine with wetness, a drip makes its way down his chin before he clumsily wipes it away. Misty eyes peel open and meet my face. A half-mouthed grin dawns on his face with recognition, "Oh ho, Dr. Bigshot. How'd you fit your head through the door?"**

"**Same way you fit your wallet, Mr. Snyder." He doesn't slur like a drunk, but his words come slower like they've had to be filtered through his inebriated brain. He sniggered with a sideways glance at me, "Touché," he rocked to and fro on the stool and nodded down a bit too much. His body clearly had enough. **

"**Welly well…" he glanced down at his empty tankard and raised a hand for the next.**

"**No." I solidly interjected, grabbing his arm and bringing it back down "I think you've had enough."**

**He bore into me with some of the purest anger I've felt, lowering his voice he said, "I don't really give a hell what you think," and swung his arm out and up, eyes still strung with mine.**

"**Alright. Get down Snyder, "I gripped him hard and dragged him off the stool. Surprise dribbled across his face as he stumbled and fell into uneven step behind me. He held my forearm to keep from plowing into the ground while I threaded us back outside. Dead weight dragged me to a stop and I looked back at the cause, he's crumbled to his knees on the sidewalk and clung to that same spot on his back.**

"**What's wrong?" I asked.**

"**Nothing," he staggered up, "lemme alone."**

"**I can't do that Mr. Snyder," I seize his jacket and start walking back.**

**He mumbled, "Everyone else does, shouldn't be such a challenge for you."**

**I'm not sure what to say, so I keep walking. "'S fine," he says heartily, "leave the screw up. Mebbe a car'll come by and cripple me too. Then we'll be even."**

**I turn around, "And just how would that make us even?"**

"**Not **_**you, **_**sorry to disappoint. Though I'm sure my imminent pain would make your rotten day—I'm talkin 'bout Noah." **

"**You're an idiot." **

"**You're an ass."**

**By some divine stroke of luck we made it back to his car, I noted the dent still marring the front bumper. Luke swayed and braced himself heavily against the side of the car, the way he moved constantly threatened to result in him landing flat on his back. **

"**Keys, Mr. Snyder," I sighed with a hand extended. **

"**Tch, yeah right. Look what happened last time you handled this baby." He lolled his head to indicate the damage of escape plans past. "My car, I drive," his brow furrowed, "actually, why are you still here? Leave."**

**My patience was wearing thin as paper, I stepped towards him to take the keys by force. I could see the lump in his pants pocket where they hid. He lurched at me and slammed a hand on my chest, "H-hey, you back off."**

"**That's enough," I growled. **

**He smiled dryly, "What? You gunna grow a pair and punch me?" he reached up and slapped my cheek twice.**

**I glared at him, he stared back with all the steadiness he could manage. "They'll be hard to locate," he cooed, "your balls that is. They're right next to your heart."**

**He leaned in close enough to smell the crisp beer dripping off his tongue, "Ooop," his mouth formed an 'O', "now you'll never find 'em." He fell backward onto the car door, still babbling. "Not that you could see, what with your head so far up yer ass."**

**I snapped and thrust him against the car, pinning him tight. Even in this situation I was hyper-aware of his warm body so close to mine, his thighs clamped tight on either side of the leg I wedged between them, the alluring way his cupid bow lips parted…. **

**I ran a hand down his side, Luke's breath hitched as his coffee colored eyes raked over my face. My hand slipped into his pocket and the key tinked when my digits closed around them. Our chests were pressed together so unyieldingly I felt his breathing and his rapid heart ticking against my own speeding pulse. My face leaned close to ghost his lips against mine.**

"**Not so hard, see?" I breathed, retreating my hand from the recesses of his pocket. **

**I'd stopped myself this time.**


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm not sure if I should have Luke barf….how much alcohol does that even take? Anyhow, here's your freaking smut…kinda. I don't see these two as kinky guys. Watching the episodes where Luke was actually drunk, you can see a pattern: first he's hesitant, then he gets the beer in hand and turns into an asshole, and last he gets touchy and desperate, maybe a little sensual. So I'll keep with that theme. Hope you like it._

**I lassoed Luke into the passenger's seatbelt, in his own surprisingly messy car. There were water bottles thrown here and there, some only half finished, college course books nestled under foot, and a couple stray ties made a home in the back. He propped a knee against the dash and stretched his belt out to its fullest then let it snap back. **

**His disposition was still sparky, but the wound up tension that saddled him before was at large, at least until he returned to normalcy—if there was such a state for Luke Snyder. His posture simply read mellowness, like he could sink endlessly into the seat and not care where he was. With a jerk of my wrist the engine roared to life at the turn of a key. Glancing around the dark parking lot, I noted no one with in my sight, aside from a couple empty cars still as death.**

"**Careful, I know diving's hard for the great neurosurgeon," Luke clipped, he was tracing haphazard designs on the foggy window.**

"**Careful, I know speaking's hard for the mentally impaired," I muttered back.**

**He rolled his head around and snarled, "Hah!" and scrubbed his knuckles over the scribbles he had drawn.**

**Rich people had it good, this car floated on the road and turned like it was on rails. It rode smooth and sure, even with constant barrage of insults dripping from my charge. His constant movement cued me in that he was at a restless point in the course. Burning not to be strapped in, his clumsy hand scratched at the buckle until he located the release button. **

"**Knock it off," I pushed his hands away. **

"**You," he whacked at my only hand on the wheel. The car jittered over to the other lane, I righted it fearfully.**

"**Idiot!" I yelled, "Do you want to get us killed?"**

"**Only if you promise I won't have to hear your conceited voice anymore," he retorted.**

**Despite his greatest attempts to murder us, I rolled the car up his abnormally long driveway. Luke spilled out of the passenger's seat as soon as he could find the handle to unlatch the door. He ran and stumbled a few paces to keep from face planting in the gravel. I pocketed the keys and fastened his arm around my shoulder, his frame pressed agonizingly secure to me. I gritted my teeth, willing myself not to recognize any body parts. A slight brush of a thigh against mine, the way shoulder muscles constricted beneath his shirt, how very little I would have to move to claim a spot on his neck….**

There was an arm around me again, this one attached to a stern faced doctor rather than a warm eyed Noah. But he shouldered me with more tenderness than in this same instance before, one year ago. I pressed into it, the feeling of touch I'd missed for so long, even if it was just the small kind.

"**Alright," I sighed, dumping the open mouthed Luke on a chair, not sure where to take it from here. I took a gander around his kitchen for inspiration as for what to do next.**

"**Water, water would help," I inwardly grimaced at my slowness, frustrated at the way Luke scrambled my mind—even when he was drunk.**

**I opened cabinets around the kitchen in search of cups. It was unusually silent, I turned my head behind me to look at the mute boy still sitting there. He watched me unsteadily. It was unnerving.**

**Upon finding a glass, I filled it with tap water. I hadn't really a hope of finding aspirin in this place, so I just set it in front of him. He had a staring contest with it, and slowly shook his head side to side, "I don't want it," he stated plainly.**

"**Oh really? Well you're going to drink it," I flared.**

**He flopped and arm over the back of his chair and smirked, "Are those the doctor's orders?" his jaw slackened and eyebrows rose. **

"**Yeah."**

**He tipped the chair back on its hind legs ,"Well frankly, you kinda suck as a doctor. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but Noah's still blind. You're the last guy to be **_**proscribing **_**me to drink anything," He drawled.**

"**mmhm mmhm, this coming from the underage drunk," I ensnared the front of his shirt to pull him upright, the chair thumped back on all fours "If you won't drink the damn water, then go take a cold shower," my eyes drew a line down his front. "You're a mess," his eyes were sad at this, his mouth perked to protest as I watched the same docile acceptance the flooded his eyes with Noah. The kind of kicked dog that had finally been trained to believe he had it coming. I felt guilt seep through my hand and it slackened. I cleared my throat, "Well, come on," I said harshly, pulling him upstairs.**

"You're a mess." He says. If I had a nickel….

**Luke stomped on each step with enough force to break through, I'd fallen in step behind him, preparing for the worst case scenario of his performing a back tumble. An unfortunate drawback to this predicament was the unadulterated view of his rear. Unfortunate, because every step he took put me closer and closer to the edge of doing him right on the stairs. His pants creased and stretched in sinful ways, directing my mind to places they had better not go. SO when I say this kid has a nice ass…it doesn't really sum it all up.**

**The bathroom was a mint colored room, first on the left, and with my head at last leveled with his I could gather myself back to a purpose. He staggered in the door with a gentle push and used the wall to stop his self-created momentum. A shower would do him better **_**without **_**cloths on, I placed my hands on his lopping frame to release him of his jacket and flopped it on the hamper. Thankful he was at least cooperating thus far, I tweaked the shower knob on—figuring he couldn't tell cold from hot at this point.**

**I rotate to see him bent over his crinkled shirt, his fingers floundering to find purchase on one of the buttons. He wasn't having any luck with it, I reached in with a, "Here," and loosened each button down his chest. His hands attempted to help me, I flicked them away and he let them fall to his sides.**

His surgeon's hands tipped each button slowly out of their slits, letting air in to lick at my chest. It was an embarrassment, being incapable of taking off your own shirt, my hands crept along with his trying to aid but he nudged them away. I gave in to having him reveal my body, and dropped my head to the wall. He pulled out my shirt tails that hadn't already been untucked before and I pretended it was something more than an accomplished man assisting a drunken college reject.

**My fingertips smoothed over the silky skin of Luke's stomach, I itched to run my hands all over him and feel the rest, but I rescinded them to allow him to remove the rest of his shirt. He shuffled out of it like a child, tucking his chin into his chest looking at the floor. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably in the cool of the air, I still stared at the expanse of him before me. The hiss of the shower finally called me back to time. Reasoning that he wouldn't fare much better on his pants, I unsnapped them. At the same moment I glanced up and met mocha colored eyes, the click and 'zzzzt' of his zipper sounded through the bathroom. **

Dr. Reid Oliver clicked open my pants. What do I do? The haze of booze was boggling my mind. The half sober part of me wanted to slap his hands away, saying, "No, this part is reserved for Noah." And the argumentative half—which had the upper hand here—said quietly, "Noah doesn't want you. Take this." And the spreading heat in my lower parts argued just as persuasively.

**I looked intently at Luke's flushed face, the curvature of his open lips, the slight cleft of his chin and the scruffy way his hair decorated his forehead. If the words "puppy dog eyes" described anyone, it was Luke Snyder, they were deep and expressive as dark windows to his emotions, usually clear and humoring or rich and passionate—the way he looked at Noah. The type of exchange they were having now, it wasn't the same as with Noah, but the rugged want tingeing his irises almost had me on top of him. My thumbs slid down his hip bones and found place inside the band of his boxers.**

I savored the warmth inching lower and lower, my breath caught, I bore into his face. I'd never noticed the color of his eyes, they were light. So light I couldn't place a color to them, almost a gray absence of color. They were strong. I reveled in their difference from Noah's. Noah's chocolaty eyes, always so restrained, but loving none the less. The icy eyes that locked with my own, were straight and focused, clear in their direction and unapologetic, I swam in it.

His thumbs wedged between the band of my boxers and skin, crooked like they were preparing to turn the page of a book. My hips tilted forward imperceptibly, willing him to go further. Then all of a sudden, no more. Dr. Oliver averted his eyes with a turn of his head. I fought hard in attempt to not admit to myself how much I need this, right now.

**What was I doing? Luke loved Noah. Luke wanted Noah. I ripped my hands off him and looked away to cut off the source of temptation, I cleared my throat and said huskily, "I…ah, think you've got it from here, Mr. Snyder," I stood back, taking a last look at the angelic boy slumped against the wall, knowing something like this wouldn't happen again. I chanced on seeing a reddened peek of a line curling around his back. I squinted.**

Dr. Oliver's face troubled, "Luke, what is…" he started in a quizzical tone. He focused on my side, then abruptly twisted me around to look at my back. "Is that a kidney transplant scar?" he asked indignantly, he was close again, I could feel his breath rolling against my shoulder blade. My eyes shut without an answer.

**Luke stayed hushed, a forearm propped against the wall for support, but still he swayed. The patch up job was sloppy, more scaring than should be there. I ran a finger overtop of it, soft to the touch, **_**must be an old one then, **_**I thought. If he really had only one kidney, it was near suicide to be drinking at the rate he was.**

"**Lu—Snyder," I said sternly to earn and answer, I craned my neck around to look at his face. His eyes were shut, "Hey—" I started, when he throatily said, "You're hands are warm." And took hold of the hand not tracing his past, bringing it around to his abdomen. Too much. I was too close, too much in contact, he was too open—we pressed together and I abandoned my resolve. **

**I threw my free arm around him, he inhaled sharply and leaned against my chest. I breathed in his whole smell, though tainted with alcohol, it was still distinctly his. I grappled with his boxers, he placed his palm over my hand and tucked it deeper in, I let out a shaky pent up exhale, continuing to move down.**

**He curved his head into my neck, the quickness of his breath raising goose bumps. My fingers closed around the base of his cock, he groaned and dug his hands into my jeans, pulling me closer. I'm growing harder by the second, feeling his hands clench.**

"**Hold on," he snapped his head back and unevenly stumbles until he's facing my perplexed face. His eyebrows lower in just as much confusion as mine. He's disgruntled and steamy, "But," he says hesitantly, "you hate me."**

I want to be touched and held, I want this. But beforehand had made it blatantly obvious he detested me, my head and crotch pounded nearly as painfully as the other. His face was that impenetrable mask it always was, but his eyes smoldered and his hands burned into the parts of me he clasped. Without hesitation, his slightly parted lips crushed into mine.

**I'd been wanting it for awhile now, those plush lips of Luke Snyder's, and I claimed them. Seeing his helplessly inebriated body opening up for me. I latched onto his lips. He paused, then fell into beat. He sucked in the kiss and wound his hand in my hair, the other ceasing a fist full of my shirt. He ran his tongue along my upper lip and opened his mouth, begging me to deepen it. I rubbed my way down his lower back. **

Dr. Oliver attacked my mouth like there wasn't enough time, my head spun with beer and arousal. Gravity won out against my fight, and I swayed precariously on my feet, he responded with firm guidance to the wall I'd abandoned. His nibble fingers trickled their way around, squeezing and rubbing until I yanked away from the kiss to drag in a ragged breath. "ah," I released into the heavy air,

**I could barely stand to watch Luke huff and groan, my jeans strained against my erection. I braced him against the tiles and slapped a hand next to his head when he surfaced for air. I palmed his crotch, digging for a response. Which I got, his eyes shut and his Adam's apple bobbed as he relinquished a shaking moan. My heart stuttered, he curled when I flexed my hand on the throbbing bulge. Seizing the opportunity, I leaned down to his exposed neck sucked on his pulse point, sensing the racing speed of his heart. I tipped my hand in and felt the rumble in his throat as he groaned lowly. **

My skin was searing, Dr. Oliver's practiced fingers crawling over my groin demolished the faint grip on reality I had. I fell farther away from any recognition of myself I had, succumbing the feel of his body on mine. It took me to a level of unrecognition even greater than the alcohol—perfect. Out of nowhere I crashed back to earth with a shocking pain in my back region.

**Luke went rigid and let out a strangled mewl and crumbled to the floor, clawing into his back on top of the scar. "So it **_**is**_** the kidney," I said grimly, still standing above his cowering state. He raised flickering eyes to my face, I kneeled beside him and pried his hands away. His stiffness then leaked out and his eyes drooped shut, he panted out labored breaths. I wrenched his chin up to look at his face, perspiring lightly with the strain.**

"**You brought this on yourself you know," I was angry as hell, "I mean, what kind of idiot knows about the risks of poisoning themselves then goes ahead and does it?" I questioned the weak face. He starred back irritably.**

"**C'mon," I said quickly, "you're going to the hospital."**

"**No," he said flatly.**

"**That wasn't a request, Mr. Snyder."**

"**Either way, I'm not going." His shaking limbs supported him enough to help him lean against the hamper he crumpled close by. He pulled a half smile, "I'm fine."**

"**The hell you are! You need this checked out."**

"**Dr. Oliver," he fixed his eyes on my face, "Please. I'll do anything, just don't—" he struggles with finding words, tripping over his booze slackened tongue. "I'm not going," he concluded.**

**I stared at him, he's trying to protect people again. Trying to shield them from the ugliness of his life by keeping them shut out and neglecting himself. **

Dr. Oliver's eyes traveled down from my face to my bottom half, he placed a hand mere inches from my groin and focusing on that area muttered, "Anything?" I shut my eyes out of exhaustion or avoidance and breathed, "Yeah," I felt his lips tickle my ear, "Never do this again."

I slit open my eyes in search of his, and finding them gazed a bit dumbfounded. He met them square with the unyielding direction of a doctor, he dropped his mouth open and said slow and clear, "Now take a shower, drink water, and go to bed. I'm not dealing with this ever again." He rocked back on his heels and stood up. Nary a look back he climbed past my sprawled figure and left. The 'shhhhhh' of the long forgotten shower offered my only company in an empty house filled with now only one empty person.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for all this non-action. I just have to tie up loose ends. Hence the drunk saga ends. I tried to keep my way out of the story by having Luke so smashed he can't remember anything. So that everything goes down as planned in Texas. My follow up story I will be rewriting he episode, my favorite episode actually. The one in which They don't know the extent of the damage to Noah's brain, and they have that sexy ass kiss. As a promise (and a warning for some): there will be sex next chapter. _

The bludgeoning pain behind my temples was all too familiar; my hangovers were generally less painful than this. I raked a hand down my face, trying to burrow to the source and douse it before my head exploded. I didn't want to open my eyes. Opening them would make it all material, the cold under my cheek, the soreness in my neck, the strain in my back…oh, what the hell. I creaked open my eyes and squinted against the chipper morning light streaming from the window. Peeling my cinder block of a head off the tiled floor, I looked around to get my bearings.

So, the bathroom. This is where I ended up. _Did I shower? _No, no I did not. It appeared that I tried though, with no shirt on and pants unbuttoned, just didn't make it I guess. That, and the bathroom smelled like a stale bar. I flipped on the cold handle and stuck my head under, ice shot through my veins and my nerve screamed. "HAH!" I yelled, still bearing it halfway in. Stars sparkled across my vision, I decided I'd had enough and whipped my head back and soaked the back wall. I sat there watching the droplets plop one after the other, trying to recall what had went down that landed me here.

**Stepping out that door last night had plunged me into so much doubt, I half considered turning right back around to join the senseless Luke upstairs. But I didn't. I reconnected with his car and drove myself back to Katie's, condemning myself to a night of tossing and turning. Sometime between the third or fourth hour of my failed sleeps attempts, I gave up the charade that I'd been performing, telling myself that I wasn't at all concerned about Luke. **

**I've never considered Luke a lightweight; he's proven that he wasn't a pushover rich brat. But the fragility of the state I left him in, the broken way he curled on the floor…. How could I have left him like that? I threw off the few sheets that covered me and slammed my feet on the floor, staring but not seeing the wall.**

I leafed through the small collection of memories from last night's events: taking a strained, silent Noah to Memorial Hospital, the sting his slap left on my hands when he whacked them way from him, the hollow beer can ricocheting off my foot, loud music thrumming, icy beer straight out of an advertisement all covered in condensation, an arm around me, learned fingers trailing down my sides…what? I screwed my thumbs into my skull. Nothing. The shower clock, dotted with droplets of water read '9:34'. Crap, 10 o' clock meeting about the new hospital wing. I supplemented the still running cold shower with hot to make it more bearable and stripped off the remaining clothes.

**"Make the second one a double shot of espresso," I commanded to the young barista at Java.**

"**Rough morning?" he pulled a small smile at me. I looked impassively back, detesting small talk and detesting prying even more. He punched in the price and read it off, I paid without an answer and strode out.**

**With any luck a couple of these would get me through the day, I took a long swig and dropped it back into Luke's cup holder. I flicked on Luke's turn signal, and slowed down Luke's car straight in front of Luke's house. And there was the devil himself, Luke Snyder looking quite disheveled at the top of his driveway. **

**I popped the locks on all four doors and rolled down a window as I drew close enough to him. His mouth gaped in search of something to say, I cut him off before so much as a syllable made its way out, "You look like hell." I raised my eyebrows and pulled a once over on him, he shuffled and said, "Yeah, must be coming down with something. I, ah…," he cleared his throat and turned his stare skyward, "haven't had much sleep. So, yeah," he finished lamely. He stood in pain, cocking his head over to one side, like the ache would drain out if he only waited. His hand hovered over his back in a protective sort of way, waiting for the next attack. Luke's whole being read exhaustion, but with his messy hair and fresh clothes he forced his way out.**

"**Boozing tends to do that to you," I said in a similar tone. **

**His jaw clenched, "What are you saying?" concern trooped its way across his tired features.**

"**Just that knocking back eight some beers will do some damage," I continued, staring down the bridge of my nose. He was looking to the wayside, no doubt thinking what to do next. He couldn't tell if I was bluffing and he could deny it, or if somehow I'd seen him. **

**I went on, "Especially if the person is supporting a single kidney, and a transplant one at that." His head snapped up so quick I'd think he was electrocuted. He winced painfully and rubbed at his head.**

"**Why do you have my car?" he asked in a defeated tone, tracking my movements for falsery. **

"**Well," I said raising my shoulders, "After driving your drunken self home, and thereby abandoning myself and my night to seeing you here alive, I drove back."**

**He seemed to have accepted it, but didn't know where to take it from here. He sucked on his bottom lip and my mouth watered a little bit. No recollection of anything else? Not even a stir of emotion over what went down last night? How close I was to having him and how close he was to taking me? By the blank look I could answer that one myself.**

"**So," I said with a sigh, drumming my palms against the wheel, "don't we have a meeting or something pointless we're already late for?"**

"**Yeah," he mumbled southward, opening the door and setting himself in the same seat I wrestled him in before.**

"**Take this," I shoved the double shot into a limp hand, which gripped it immediately. Guarded eyes flicked up to my face, my heart thrummed. He sipped slowly, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a habit, he would lick his top lip after each drink. When had I become so sensitive to his mouth?**

Was I mortified? No. Riding shot gun in my own car because I was too far gone to do it myself, was passable. This occasion had come and gone too many times in the past for it to hold the same weight as when I was 16. But somehow, having Dr. Reid Oliver witness all of that reached me on a new plane of disparity. What's worse, was the alarming way my pulse sped up when his fingers brushed mine when he handed me the coffee cup.

**We were pulling in to the parking lot, Luke never meeting my eyes once and a stuffy silence floating in the front seats. I ranked the car into park and cut the noise, he held out his hand for the keys when I removed them. I dangled them above his open hand.**

"**Thank you Dr. Oliver, for hauling my sorry hide back," I took on a sarcastic pitch.**

**He finally faced me with a pause, "Thank you Dr. Oliver, for shoving your nose in my business and then stealing my car. How ever can I repay you?" he blinked and snatched the keys from my hand.**

"**How is saving your life—and probably someone else's who would've died on impact from the car I 'stole'—not my business?" I said back. He vacillated between staring at me and the window, eventually landing back on me.**

"**Thank you."**

**I stepped out of the car and saw his head pop out on the opposite side. He focused on me and took to a walk around the back and came to rest in front of me. I lifted a quizzical eyebrow.**

"**Why'd you do it?" he asked.**

**I loomed past him at the hospital, "I don't know," lowly.**


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter takes place during my FAVORITE episode of the whole Luke/Reid story line. When Reid coldly tells him something's gone wrong with the surgery and Luke confronts him in the apartment. They have THE hottest kiss of "As the World Turns". Van Hansis just sold the scene, he's looking fine with my favorite haircut and some snazzy threads. But he really does deserve and Emmy for his performance in that scene, the utter desperateness and the way he trembles before Reid kisses him is perfect. But this is how the scene would have gone if I had my way._

I was sinking. Sinking quickly without a raft in sight, no one to pull me out. Since those toneless words flowed so easily out of his barly moving lips, "There may be brain damage." No reassurance, just straight, cold fact. Why couldn't I just accept that? Why? Beause the only man I ever loved enough to push me to such great lengths had entered that surgery chamber scared for his life, excited for the sun outside to mean something again, finally asking for _me _again. I pleaded with him to trust, assured him there was nothing to fear—but now….

**The brown jacketed back was to me, headed in an aimless way to the door he had burst through. **

"**Yes you do," I declared in the heavy air, begging him to turn around and look at me and praying that I wouldn't see the betrayal in his eyes as strongly. Hoping that the distrust and desperity watering his eyes was just imagined. He stiffened, and crookedly returned to face me, his lips pressed together and chin dimpled like he was holding something in .**

"**You can't look at me, and tell me you don't know who I am," I bore into his face, watching it fissure with self doubt.**

**His voice creaked, "Then how did this happen?"**

**The utter hopelessness painted all over his movements threw me, "I wish…" I started without commitment to an explaination, but watching him hang on to the words like a life vest had me finish with, "I don't know." **

**Which was false. I always knew, I always knew everything. Nothing uprooted me, nothing derailed me, I was incorruptible in my life and infallible in my work. **

**But this boy debunked me, I was navigating an unfamiliar turf. Just a half glance from him in the halls tweaked me in ways I'd never felt before, I wanted him and I couldn't stand it.**

"**You told me," he began slowly with a shallow breath," that you could fix him. You promised. Noah couldn't handle being blind. So I gave him the one chance in the world he thought he had by bringing you here. And now," his voice trailed as he swallowed, tenuously darting his eyes around the room, "this. And if h—if he's never the same again," he clicked pitifully, "If he doesn't make it through this, then I j—"he looked at me in a communicating sort of way, trying to make me see what he couldn't say. **

"**You can't what?"**

**His eyes flicked to the carpeted floor like an explanation was nestled in the shag, not finding it he resorted to his best answer, "I don't—I" finally raising his eyes to me, "I can't."**

**My eyes narrowed and I took a step, shrinking out distance, "You can't…what?" leaving space for the answer I needed. I reached a hand forward and ghosted my fingers on his cheek. His throat bobbed but no sound came out. No word of explanation.**

"**You can't what Luke?" I said softly, my gaze never wavering and looming closer. He trembled with conflict and licked his bottom lip weakly.**

A red shirt clad arm rested on my neck, the pads of his fingers only just gracing my cheekbones. My eyes traveled against my will down his unveiled chest. Faintly I realized that I'd never seen Reid without a shirt, funny to recall that in all of this turmoil. But I couldn't help noting the way his flawless waist dipped into his pants and how much further down I wanted to see.

I couldn't answer; something was stuck in my throat, what I can't do. I can't _want _him this much. Not now.

But I did.

**Dewey brown eyes tracked over my face searchingly. Pressing my hand closer I leaned in, his face tipped shakily to me, which was all the inclination I needed. I nipped at his pouted bottom lip, he slighted back and I followed out of sheer selfish need, grabbing another mouthful. The taste of him was intoxicating, the wet of his mouth on mine addicting.**

**Timid fingers curled into the hair on the back of my neck as a breath rattled across my lips, evidence of Luke trying to steady himself. The hand grew stronger, more urgent, deepening the kiss like he couldn't stop. Another hand joined the first, clawing my scalp in heat, his arousal beating with mine.**

I was being led to places I couldn't see a way back from. Nothing would take back the kiss I was melting greedily into, the hands pulling me closer, and the soft hair rustling between my fingers. I let myself be led. Wherever this was taking me, at least it was away from here and all of the powerlessness of letting go of Noah.

There was no promise of something else waiting at the end, just second by second touching and feeling. Secluded harshness in the way he bit at my lips, only us and the raw need fed by the confusion surrounding our agitated wrestling.

**I peeled away from Luke's open mouth, only to expose him more, possess more. My fingers flew down his shirt, tearing out button by button, his creamy skin callously revealed by my franticness. He clasped his hands around my jaws, I looked searingly up at his molten eyes. They geared me farther away from reality, just experiencing the heat in his touch. His hands slid down my neck, crushing his mouth again to mine, hands gaining purchase on my shirt. I dove in and pressed his face closer.**

**With a quick jerk I slopped him onto the couch, stripping him of his shirt and jacket, not even caring where they landed as I tossed them. He panted when my lips detached from his, I whipped my shirt off as he fumbled with my belt, not succeeding. My knee ground into his crotch, producing a startled groan.**

**I snatched at the waistband of his pants with dire need, pulling them lower and lower. He pulled himself up right unexpectedly, watching me tug at his trousers. I halted at the blankness in his face, my hands frozen, even with their prize mere centimeters away. He smoothly moved my hands away, I balked and sat back on my heels. Never faltering in eye contact he turned over and bent on the couch. His back muscles rippled and he shivered when I placed a hand on his near bare hip.**

**My fingers tucked into his pants and drug them to hit the floor where his knees were. Crawling over him so my flipping stomach warmed the small of his back, I trailed a hand past his naval and gripped his hip with my other hand. Then, at an agonizingly slow pace I pressed in behind him. His abs quaked under my palm, he stuttered out a breath and held it there. The tension around my cock threatened to cripple me, I grunted into his shoulder blade.**

**His hand groped down my spine, thrilling nerves to a panic in his path, he arched his back to the side. Allowing me to see his face, lips agape, eyes shut, and the tendons in his neck standing out. I paused until I felt the subtle movement of him sliding back on me, I thrust in. He let out a strangulated moan and buried his face his arm.**

Reid's length was sheathed fully behind me, I relished in the presence. He moved gingerly, but that wasn't what I needed. I needed to silence the clashing doubts inside of me, to shatter it. Maneuvering myself, I shoved onto him, which he responded to by driving in harder.

**I dove with mounting force each time, my breathing grew ragged and moisture beaded on my brow. Luke's knuckles clenched white on the white upholstery of the three seater couch. His body had grown slick with sweat and moved with mine in heated rhythm, each of us suffering from blind arousal. I needed him so bad, and I so badly wanted him to need me half as much. I felt around his neck, fingers sliding over his gasping face and found his pulse right below his rugged jaw line. Accelerating, identical to mine.**

**The room filled with our laboring breaths, occasionally punctured by a moan from Luke, which fired me harder. I pulsed inside him painfully, close to release. Luke's body rocked against mine needfully, even when his face twisted in pain. **

**I rammed one final time, folding over his body and unable to restrain it I let my mouth slack and released inside of him. His watery, vacant eyes cast over my heaving face, they shut and he collapsed beneath me.**

I wasn't feeling, not really. It was a numbness I wasn't sure I felt comfortable in. our shared sweat cooled on my skin, leaving a clammy dry. I'd watched his face as he came, watched it contort and felt him hold me to him while the passion wracked his body. We'd done it, and Noah was unconcerned on a cold hospital cot, in a white room, blind or not, at Memorial. And here I was, boneless and ass up in the air, with Reid removing himself from behind, my hand wet with myself. It's hard to despise yourself more, but somehow I managed.

** Luke limped over to his pants, his face betraying every shot of pain. I replaced my own clothes, and now covered strode over to him, stroking the side of his face. His pupils darted around in avoidance while his lips worked at something to say, but caught on nothing. I dipped my head lower to look up at him, as his eyes had finally rested on socked feet. **

**If anything, he looked more bereft than before our lips met. His hair mussed every which way, plump lips reddened, jerky movements, dirty evidence I assumed he wished he could erase.**

**I dropped my hand and turned away, not wanting to look at what I was seeing and reading into any longer. I cleared my throat, "We should, ah, go back to the hospital."**

**With a quick glance over at Luke, fully dressed now and slouching on his jacket, "See if there's been any progress and Noah's condition." He started at the mention of Noah's name.**

**With a low gruff voice he said, "Yeah, let's do that."**

**As I took the lead out the door, I couldn't help but think I'd shattered something pure. **


	5. Chapter 5

_Oh Jesus, this chapter was a friggen battle. I worked for like a week and a half on it, writing down bits and pieces on paper. Then I typed it all up and added entire parts. Nearly done and…my computer crashed. Lost every. Single. Document. So now, here I am writing the entire thing over again._

_And THAT is why it took so damn long._

My steps weighed heavily, thumping down the fluorescent lit hallways of Memorial, scanning the names tapped up to assigned room numbers. "Meyer, Meyer, Meyer," I chanted under my breath, as if the name could ever be rubbed out. As if one day his name would be a forgotten object of my past, that these two syllables wouldn't evoke every mere second we spent together, as if I would never see the flash of fireworks when he reached out blindly to me. I ticked off every name that wasn't his, turning a corner, "Meyer, Meyer, Meyer," like a madra. A spell to ward off anything else.

I halted outside a still room, "Noah Meyer" my chest constricted as I caught sight of his lone figure laying under the few hospital issue blankets on the cot. His dark hair was pushed off his forehead by some gratuitous bandaging, dark eyebrows relaxed and brow uncreased. A quaint picture of utter ease and ignorance, such a dire contrast to my own perpetual state of unrest.

His handsome face, I wondered if the next words to come out of his lips would be his or some product of a failed brain surgery. I'd memorized his face, could reproduce it a thousand times in an instant. The way his lips propped against one another, the tender curve of his brows angling into his straight nose, his prominent Adam's apple—all pieced together to make such a fine face. I could even place a grin on that statue still face, his eyes scrunching into upside down 'u's.

The panic spiked inside me again. It poked at my stomach like barbs and strangled my heart like a straight jacket, whispering wicked words that it wouldn't be the Noah Meyer that was wheeled so hopefully into the operating room, that his toothy smile will be forever off, that he won't even have a recollection of me…of us….

My dread rendered my immobile; I couldn't will myself to go forward to meet that foreboding figure reclining on the cot. I didn't want to shatter this unknowing safe haven, just my listening to the rhythmic bleep of the monitor and watching the knit blanket rise and fall—knowing he was at least alive—if not whole. Like a picture, halted in time and me not disrupting it either way. A sick waiting game.

** It was almost entertaining walking down Memorial's halls. Nurses scurried out of my path and doctors alike relinquished their space to have me pass. **_**Parting the sea of incompetence**_**. I slapped a hand to my chest pocket and took it out as partner to the clipboard 'Meyer, Noah' scrawled on top. It was a messy order of a record, tell tale of his progress, like a cheat sheet. Noah cheat sheet in hand, I took the few paces left to his room.**

**Blinds altered my clarity, offering only blurred outlines of the goings on beyond. Before I swung open the door to an expected vacant room, I spotted Luke's still figure a distance from Noah's bed. **

**Curiosity had me pause and observe, to watch objectively what was going on in this boy from the outside. Funny to look into a glass room, makeshift tank, containing two specimens that had complicated my one-track world. Watching the still as stone Luke toil. His indecision was apparent, he's a very animate guy—his emotions are hardwired to his movements, he didn't know what he wanted.**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

His unmoving face enraptured my gaze; I jumped at the breeze from the room fan blowing his hair, praying for movement. Then suddenly, his eyelids flickered. I was at his bedside in a hot second, indecision taking a holiday for this moment.

"Noah," I cajoled, "if you can hear me open your eyes." He rolled his drug weighted head towards my awaiting face, "Wake up, " I said in a hushed voice. In seconds that seemed to last an eternity a piece, dark, unfocused eyes peered at me through eyelashes.

"Noah, it's me, "I reassured him while an unbidden smile seized my face, "can you see me?"

He blinked, dazed and lost in his powder blue covers. _Brain damage, _my inner self taunted, I balked.

"Noah," my voice hinting at the terror brewing inside, "Noah, are you okay? Can you see me?" I repeated. A sign, I needed a sign, "Ah, if you can hear what I'm saying just say something or nod your head." My nervous heart thrummed in my temples, if he could only raise his voice to a whisper I'd be sunk, the rushing blood would drown it out. His Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow when his saving voice squeezed out, "I can see…um," another swallow, "Your eyes." The corners of his mouth upturned, "They're the most amazing things I've ever seen."

I choked on my own overwhelming relief and reached a hand to run through his hair, "You're you," barely a whisper, "you're still you."

He smiled in good nature, "Who else would I be?"

I encircled him in a hug, so elated that I could breathe again and that my heart would make it through this. I hugged him for every moment of the unknown and for every hug I would have missed out on.

_**Big shocker there, **_**the young man opens his eyes for the briefest of seconds and Luke's nearly in bed with him. **_**What the hell do I care, **_**my face heated briefly before disexpression painted itself across my features once more. The mask I wore before would permanently become my face, no one fissured that mask, or so I hope. **_**Idiot, **_**I though fiercely at myself. As if those warm brown eyes would ever belong to my hard, empty ones. That capturing heart would never beat in tune with my cold one.**

**I opened the door, not really feeling the handle. "You're awake," I commented, pleased despite the reluctant way Luke released his ex from their hug.**

"**He can see," Luke beamed shakily. My throat tightened at his exuberance, but of course my face betrayed nothing.**

"**Sort of…" came a tired comment from Noah.**

"**Excuse us, Mr. Snyder," I said flatly, "I need to examine my patient," with a slight gesture to the door.**

**His handsome face smiled, "Yes, of course," he turned from me to the bed, "I'll be back later Noah."**

**I felt foolish standing there between their joy. It was **_**my **_**goddamn skill that made this painful exchange happen.**

"**See you then," Noah grinned, still squinting at the introduction of light to his long dormant eyes.**

**I spewed out a barrage of questions that would give some further indication of his mental state. Though I hardly need listen to the answers, I could tell by the gleam in his restored eyes as he watched Luke walk out the door. **

**His pupils dilated properly and followed the light I waved in the air. I nodded with a grim satisfaction. True, my operation was a success, I never bragged that it wouldn't be, but what would this foretell for Luke? Would he fall helplessly back in love with—**_**stop. **_**I don't care.**

"**Thank you," Noah's words cut through, his earnest face smiled up at me.**

"**Just doing my job."**

**Nearing tears, he continued, "I never thought I was going to see again. You and Luke—" he started, and appeared to stare into space, "Luke made this happen."**

_**Duh, the damn kid has me here in front of you. You ungrateful fu—"**_**Well, I think I had a little more to do with it," my mouth said.**

"**No, but he brought you here and the whole time I've been pushing him away." He sounded honestly remorseful at the close, as well he should. He nodded in determination, "I'm gonna make it up to him," he looked to me for encouragement I would never offer.**

"**Well great," I said snidely, "I'm interested in your vision, so you can save your true confessions for somebody who, I don't know…cares?"**

"**You know, some things never change. Your bedside manner still stinks."**

_**Cute Mr. Meyer, cute. Never heard that one before. Back at ya.**_

"**That's a relief, "I said, turning to the door as I opened it, revealing a red jacket. Luke wheeled around with an annoyingly serene air, "How is he?"**

**I passively gesticulated to the door hanging open, "All yours." And took off, because I. Don't. Care.**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**I tapped an unidentified beat with a pen against a new, much sparser, clipboard. The hallway bustled with the same urgency and protocol as before. A doctor or **_**five **_**felt I would be so honored as to hear their congratulations, when I hardly knew their face from another in the crowd. There was only one face I was seeking for. **_**Moving on, **_**I thought convincingly, **_**the next patient, the better. **_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The pastel blue of the sky was so vibrant I could scarcely imagine that even Noah's eyes couldn't appreciate it. He'd somehow suckered me into carting him up to the roof; he had a way of doing that. I stood behind his wheelchair, watching his head spin around and his cheeks swell with a smile. The wind whipped at our faces, refreshing me like a cool splash of water. While Noah spoke with such utter happiness it made the sun seem even brighter.

The entire exchange we had, him engaging me in his newly restored life and me responding remembering the one he had given up, it took away some of the happy. His exhilaration, his openness, I couldn't share it because the way his words flowed sounded like a request. Asking me to forget and return. But I couldn't forget, the wound still bleeds.

"I know how hard I've been on you, I'm so sorry Luke."

"…it was my fault." My mouth worked on auto drive, repeating words I'd said a million times before. My keeping up the charade of being okay with this, with him. I could dodge like an artist, redirect like a performer. A grand performance, lacing my way around his questions, giving non-answers until finally—"Yes it has," the words escaped. Floodgates opened, my tirade was controlled with a patience only Noah could summon from me. Reliving it, the past months, not on the top of my priority list.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Empty cot. Luke. Luke and Noah.**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A sharp clang breaks through the wind on the roof as the scrub clad Reid bursts out the door, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Noah's head swiveled comically, though from the look on the doctor's face, this situation bids no humor, "Dr. Oliver?"

"uhm, Noah just wanted to come out for some fresh air," I said with a shrug, "No big deal."

"No big deal? He just had brain surgery you idiot," Reid's windswept voice snarled, "Are you trying to undo everything?"

Noah piously tried to excuse us, I looked at the doctor fuming a few feet from the doorway. _He was inside of me, _the wheelchair I rested my hand on contained the only person in the dark here. He asked me to be there for him. _I knelt in front of his bare body, Noah was unconscious and I was all but forcing Reid to—_"Mr. Snyder," my head snapped at the cold address, "knows how important rest is for your recovery."

_I make him sick. _Noah fished for other excuses, I caught the backend, "…it may have been stupid."

"It was. But you have a reason for not thinking clearly. Your boyfriend here should know better."

I nodded to the cement, "Yea," looking up and trying to apologize. "He's right. I'm sorry," I forced out. My voice had gone weak, "Noah, let's get you out of here," and wheeled him away.

Reid's stark, cold figure against the brick of the building, but all I could see was his hot silhouette against my back.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Okay, so I have about three more chapters written, I just need to tweak and type 'em up. Sorry it took so long. I have been SWAMPED with work, school and other such shit.


	6. Chapter 6

_Mm'kay, so originally this chapter was part of chapter 5, but it was taking way too long, so I split 'em up. Hopefully you'll realize this takes place after Noah's got his sight back and is being a prissy little angel again (about damn time), and Reid's being a jealous douche (which is adorable)to Luke (who I love, haha)_

_Enjoi._

The sick feeling of Déjà vu seeped up my fingers from the counter. Beers, liquors and wines surrounded me like old friends. The static strum of a guitar played from the speakers. It oozed the true ranky-dank bar feel. The whole place had a dusty sheen, the grimy sort of clean in the sense that it had been wiped, but not with soap. You could still see the leftover scum rings from cups past. The shadow of a man darkened the overlapping circles, "What can I do for you?" he asked.

I looked over my shoulder. Thin crowd, though well it should be on a Tuesday at 3:00. Taking out my wallet, I placed a twenty spot in front of him, "Budweiser."

"Can I see some I.D.?"

I stared at him, wallet still poised and put another twenty atop the first, "How about a Bud," I said curtly.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_** "Why are you treating me this way?" his hand tight on my forearm, eyes bearing into mine….**_

**I took my jacket off and strung it on the peg at Katie's and my apartment. Though we'd been living here together for months, I still haven't felt that I've christened it as my own. Aside from my preferred lunch meats and some stray beers in the fridge, the only thing indicting there was another person involved here were the clothes in my room. So, Katie's apartment it remains.**

"_**You're lying," he halted the folder, preventing me from returning it to the drawer. No I wasn't. I wasn't lying. I did want things to go back to the way they were before Texas. Before I couldn't go a freaking second without thinking about him.**_

**Bee lining to the couch, I ran my hand over the rumpled upholstery closest to the edge. This portion was more creased, pulled at and wrung vehemently—when I'd finally had him. Luke was mine then, but somehow Noah was still there, looking out from his blank eyes when we were through.**

**I dragged my fingers over my eyelids. I'm not going to be part of that boy's life. I'm not going to be his center, his reason, his life. I. Don't. Care. Luke could have his half-assed feelings and be damned. My attraction—**_**wait, what attraction? **_**Hardly, I thought I wanted him; I got what I wanted; now I can be finished. Luke Snyder. Rich boy, sarcastic prick, underhanded con, coffee colored eyes, perfectly curved lips, funny, passionate…nothing.**

**I jumped to my feet with a clap, stomping out the insanity which was any affection toward that kid. "A drink, loosen me up," I muttered, retrieving the coat I'd hung just moments before my forced epiphany.**

Nearly through the bottle, I realized that I'd last seen this drink held non-chalantly in those slender fingers of Reid's. _Yet another man not to give a fuck about me, _"Here's to you," I called to no one in particular, draining the last of the liquid. I relished in the after taste, bitter and dull but the most freeing sting of all.

"Same deal?" questioned the bartender, offering me another of the same.

"No," I said, "try a house brew." He started towards the tap.

"Wait," he half looked, "take that away," I nudged the empty bottle. Not another memory to tuck away like it was nothing, another stupid detail that I'll remember.

Only when the foaming brew had washed down my throat did I appreciate how vacant the stools down the row were. _Will I always be this? _Alone at the bar, alone down the street, alone in the mornings—just a long lonely life. I swished the bubbly around in its glass, not very long if I kept this up. Another swig.

I had trouble choking this one down, like my body was resisting it for some reason. Odd, because usually it was begging for alcohol. I set it away from myself. _Was it last time that has me hesitate? _Feeling a warm hand on my shoulders, the touch of lips together…one pair groggy and the other juicy with want. I plopped my head in my hands, thereby limiting the view to the front of my jeans.

And a rejected beer grew warm.

** Early afternoon is prime time for a quick refresher. The bars were slow, non-antagonistic traffic at the counter, ho-hum music in the background, easy service, it just took the nerves right out of me. The dim bar greeted me expectantly. Little to no people, aside from one young guy who appeared to be taking a snooze—**_**wait, **_**I darkened, Luke. **

**My eyes caught on the beer I could only assume was his. Well why the hell else would he be at a **_**bar. **_**"Are you trying to kill yourself?" I drew up tall and glowered down at a surprised Luke.**

"**Ah, just having one," he said in false tones. With unbroken contact between us I could see his lie.**

"**And a half," he added quickly.**

"**You're an idiot," I said unmoving, "so go ahead, order another, Mr. Snyder" and made for the door. Thoughts of an off-time beer well past. He could kill himself, be damned if I care.**

Uneasiness gurgled up in my stomach, I scratched at my chin a bit lost. Troubled musings that I'd been rehearsing over and over in my head continued to become more numerous and more unrealistic. Noah said his affections remained the same. He said it underneath that true blue sky, that his love had never left, but I came here without a thought to how he'd react. Nary a worry, he'd shown me how unfeeling and careless he could be. I couldn't just swipe it from history because he can tell what color my shirt is now, or where the remote is, or able to see the tears…. At the same time, I can't scrape off the love I've always had for him. Low these many months, that love I harbored in my heart, yearning to be allowed to feel it again.

I took the room temperature beer in hand, _so this is the result, _I thought to myself. The off feeling coursing through me, incited by the mere appearance of a man who, once again, can't stand me.

_Mr. Snyder, _I guess this is it. _I'm not leaving it like this._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Hospital lounges aren't exactly the 'ritz', but as far as Memorial's went, it was passable. Demure colors blended seamlessly with the hospital motif, a well-used couch dead center, sink and counter complex and a big refrigerator—complete with a scowling Reid who was ripping sugar packets into his coffee. One packet was putting up a particularly good fight and refusing to open, he slammed it on the counter and turned to face the table between us.

His eyes widened in part anger and part astonishment. I itched the back of my neck, chasing around the possible ways to start the end.

"Hey…" I brilliantly settled on.

"What're you doing here?" he cut, he sounded more irritated that I was here rather than the reason.

"Well, I know you're _very _busy," I flared, "fixing up your crappy coffee and wasting time, but I wanted to talk to you." I vainly gauged his reaction, which wasn't much to go on. He took a slow sip and looked me straight in the eyes, I averted my own when he said, "About what?"

"This," I waved my hands between the two of us.

He raised an eyebrow and dead panned, "This what…?"

"You and me?"

"Not much to say there, but maybe this is a bad time. You should go."

"Why's that?" I inquired quietly.

He spoke in an exhale, gathering up his coffee and leaning his back to the sink, "We don't want a repeat of last time, Mr. Snyder."

"Oh, that," I looked down, recalling the stale beer from before.

"Yea, that," he said sharply. I wondered faintly about the tone of his voice, but was thinking too quickly of how to explain.

"It was only one, I told you that," I countered.

"And a half."

"That was all."

"Super," he said sarcastically into his coffee. He looked tired. Tired, aggravated and just finished all rolled up into one.

** Luke stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled, involving his shoulders and tilting his head just the way he enticed me the first time. Luke with his mop of hair. Luke with his crooked smile. Luke with his puppy eyes looking so remorsefully at mine. If he did that **_**one **_**thing with his lips, I'd be on him.**

**His mouth opened like he had a multitude to say, but couldn't find the right way to say it. "Is that it?" I demanded. The sooner he was out, the easier. No more of this being so angry one minute, and then turning around and wanting nothing more than to feel him against me.**

I ducked my head and pressed a palm to the cool of the door, preparing to push it open. _Just this one last thing…._

** He cowered at the exit, already poised to leave, to run away. His voice turned low and rusty, a quality it took on when something was hard for him to say, that hurt him. **

"**I'm sorry."**

**My styrofoam cup stopped halfway on its journey to my mouth, **_**what? **_**That voice. The octave it held, I'd heard it before. Through hospital room doors, at his bedside—the guilt and self hate flavoring this voice Luke used. And this time I wasn't a third party watcher, it was for me.**

I don't know what kind of response I was fishing for, but Reid stood almost uncomprehendingly at the staff table, staring at me with a look I couldn't figure out. Was he angry? I moved closer to him, "Reid?" _Oh shit, he is mad._ I'd pissed him off, I shouldn't have come, I really—oh Jesus. "Dr. Oliver?" his face twitched, "I'm just so…sorr—"colors whirled across my vision as he slammed me into the table. The coffee he was nursing seeped down my shirt.

"What do you mean 'sorry'?" he snarled.

My voice tremored, I wasn't afraid though "I'm sorry. What else do you want me to say?" he didn't answer. His seething eyes skimmed down my front, in a quick, violent motion he unsnapped my pants and grabbed a handful of me. "Dr. Oli…ver," what was it about him that made my sentences stop?

** He braced himself against the staff table, near finished coffee mugs jiggled as he leaned farther into it. I squeezed him testingly, observing his apprehensive self, shoulders near his ears in a hunch. "Ah," he squeaked with a jolt. Intrigued, I trailed my thumb up, feeling him shudder and sink his lower back into the edge of the table even more. I rubbed circles on the tip, "Hah," he threw his head forward and clutched my ministrating hand. **

"**What are you doing?" his voice ached with suppressed noise.**

"**What does it look like?" my still attached hand constricted, his face flushed as he wriggled and wrung his hair. My body thrilled at the image, his hand curled so sensually in his locks. He was looking at me with the most heated eyes. I locked his hip against the table with my own. His hand loosened enough for me to stroke him shallowly, he pitching into my chest, grabbing my shoulders.**

**I couldn't help it, "Noah's never done this to you?" I taunted, sensing him coil up around me.**

"**N-no," he muffled and moan and a stutter. I lengthened my strokes, relishing in the unexplored territory of Luke.**

"**Good," I growled while increasing the frequency. Pump by pump seeing him loose control, seeing his lips part and his eye lids close as he let his head dip.**

**He was mine for this time, he was mine to have shuddering in my hands, mine to need only me.**

"**Reid," he voice broke at the end. I looked at his erotic face, a hot blush on his cheeks and hooded eyes burning into me. My pants tightened and I twisted my hand at the end of his length, a hearty groan spilled from his mouth. He clenched my scrubs and pulled me closer, his breath fanning over my neck.**

**I continued at a torturous rate, I could feel it in the painful way he dug his fingers into my shoulder blades. He clung tighter as I sped up. He was so close…I tucked my nose into his hair, inhaling his shampoo. Absorbing his form so proximate to mine. Even between our clothed bodies the contact drove me wild. I startled when his open lips touched my neck, his rapid breath moist and hot.**

My knee caps had disappeared, the floor wasn't as solid, my resolve not quite so strong—it was all I could do, hold on to Reid to prevent myself from disintegrating into nothing. I nuzzled my face into his neck, smelling him, peppermint. At that moment his hand did something particularly devastating and I moaned through my whole body, next to my head I made out a snigger.

** He ground into me with a burning moan, I shouldered his passion and tried not to act as far as I wanted to on my own. Having him in this position was a test for any person. I'd gained the control over him I needed, he'd sent me to a place where the title 'doctor' had no effect on the outcome. It didn't matter whether I'd preformed surgery with the precision and skill of a master, or how many top rate hospitals would pay out the nose just to have me make an incision—I was here as a tool for him, for Noah. Now he was my tool.**

**If that's all, then why are his lips pressed against my neck the only thing I feel? Why is the sound of his voice ringing out so enthralling to my ears?**

**He sucked in a breath and held it there, he tensed up, holding back. I stopped, his pulsating member in hand, he shivered audibly. "Dr. Oli…ver," he said coarsely, I held the base of his cock in a vice before one long jerk. He groaned into the nape of my neck, making me sweat. He fell back, unintentionally giving me a fucking arousing view.**

**His chin angled into his collar bone and mouth agape as he came into my hand. I soaked in the soft way his pent up tension leaked out. He grew more lethargic by the second and a pleasurable glow lighted his features.**

**I wiped my hand on discarded napkins of a lunch left behind. Luke's eye peeled open, humid with confusion. He had melted into the table, supporting his shaking body against it.**

Though I had gathered back some composure, my nerve endings were still on fire and my body sang. The overwhelming feeling was perplexity. I thought he hated me. But here I am, a mess propped against a table by his doing. Any sentiment I was trying to relay post-best-climax-ever flew to the wayside.

** Heavy voiced he said, "What do you want?" **

_**You. **_**My mind replied unbidden, so I'll admit it to myself.**

I parroted the words he spoke to me in the medical file room, and just as I had, he offered no answer. But hung his discarded stethoscope around his neck, then pivoted and walked out the door. I shut my eyes, absorbing the last look on his face that lingered behind. Was it longing?

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_I spelled 'stethoscope' right on the first try. Hell yeah. Next chapter is a little short and sans Reid, just because we cannot forget the Noah issue, not even in a fan fiction._

_Thoughts on Noah: I've been wanting to vent and explain about this dude. So, I don't think the guy that plays him is a particularly strong actor, he kinda holds his own…like, he doesn't make a fool out of himself but he's not astounding. He makes the already amazing Van look better. _

_Noah as a character, he has his ups and downs. He can be a total dick, but then he can be really sweet. I find his moral compass really annoying, b/c it's really strict in matters of Luke, but he forgets all about it when it comes to him. I really, really hate how he pushes Luke away, and this isn't just a development after he went blind. He blames Luke for a lot of shit in his life, it's like calm down. Luke's the only one that loves you. On the other hand, when they're all in love it's sweet but otherwise….meh._

_Luke/Reid vs. Luke/Noah kisses: This is a credit to the actors. I BELIEVE Van and Eric are gay when they're acting together, they look like they want each other, love each other, are angry at each other, I mean…how the hell to you have sexual tension with another dude when you're straight? That is skill my friends. Jake, sometimes he doesn't convince me he's gay. It takes more than making out with another guy to make you a homo. Van had all these little quirks that couples would actually do, like running his hands through the other's hair, touching, sitting close to…Jake didn't really give that back. L/R kiss=hottt and L/N kiss=nice._

_The real telltale of it all is the fact that I watched Luke and Noah be together for 3 years, fell in love with Luke immediately and was lukewarm about Noah. Reid won me over in two weeks and their chemistry together made me a lifelong fan._

_Leave comments about how you feel?_


	7. Chapter 7

_RAPID FIRE UPDATE! Woot. I figure it'll take me awhile to update again, so I'd kill two birds w/ one stone. I equate this chapter to chapter 3, sort and clearing up some points. So, here ya go._

_Oh, and it's entirely in Luke's POV_

The lit TV flickered like an out of time strobe light, illuminating and darkening the room at irregular intervals. Noah's flannelled knee had inched closer and closer to mine during the course of the film. I folded my hands tightly around the coffee mug I was working on. The weight of the couch shifted as he scooted over, connecting our shoulders. I allowed myself to lean into it. Catching a glance at him, I smiled, he was completely engrossed.

We'd attempted to watch "Citizen Kane" over eight times, but I always ended up straddling his lap while he strained his neck, laughing, trying to see around me. Now we sat side by side and I was anywhere but on this couch watching an old black and white.

…_White sofa buried under assorted chips and pretzels, work clothes loosened and ties shed atop the table…_

I stared at the same corner of the wall, burning a hole in it as the coffee grew tepid in my hands, Classic films never held the same rapture for me as they did for Noah. They soothed him though. It worked into the happier snippets of his childhood. The rowdy bars, sunset oceans, and wild western horse rides were home to him as the farm was to me.

_ …Reid smirking his smirk between my arms that I placed on either side of his head. My knees grazing his hips and ass on his thighs, "—two balls; two strikes. Pitcher winds up—" the Cubs announcer dictates in the background. He would say something sly. I would lock with his steely eyes, watching them until our lips met…_

"Luke."

_ …his hands tucking into my back pockets, urging me close, to feel his hardness against mine. Our moving against one another so hotly…_

"Luke," my pupils focused and flashed over to Noah's face which had peeled itself from the shenanigans of Kane.

"Yeah, what?" I said quickly, concealing my thoughts as though he could read them.

"I was just saying this reminds me of before," he nodded at the screen, "watching movies together."

"Yeah." My responses to Noah had developed into monosyllabic quirks whenever he and I tried to reminisce.

"Even though you never really wanted to watch them, you still did," he said distantly with a smile. I felt a one sided smile of my own curl up too.

"You knew I didn't like them?" I laughed.

"Of course, you were looking anywhere but the TV," he nudged me.

"I was watching you," it slipped out.

He grinned broader, "What?"

No use playing that one off, "You would get so into it. Watching you go along with them was better than the movie," I admitted with a wave in the air. His eyes followed my hand back down to my knee before he clasped it with his own.

"I loved it," I stared at him concerned, "and I love you," he followed lowly.

"Noah," I said with a sigh, trying to withdraw my hand, but he held on.

"No. I do love you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for blaming you and pulling away—"

I cut him off, "It was my fault," my voice echoed coldly in my head, "You had the right."

"Luke, I know you were just trying to make me feel safe. I shouldn't have…I mean…" he looked pleadingly at me, like I could decode what he was attempting to say. But I couldn't.

"It's fine. _I'm _fine."

He closed his eyes, placing himself back in a time of darkness, and said regrettably, "I could feel you, getting close enough to kiss me. My eyes were open, but couldn't see your face when you pulled away." My eyebrows knit together, "and your hands were always there, guiding me," he laced his fingers between mine, rubbing his thumb over my first two knuckles.

"And I hated that," his eyes snapped open, "I hated the fact that those had to be pitying hands and 'oh, poor Noah' lips, but I _never _hated you."

The still in the air that followed was stifling. He gazed at me. Although he hadn't asked a question, he was waiting for the answer. Why don't I kiss him anymore? Why aren't I touching his hands, his neck, his shoulders, like I used to? Why has the word 'love' become so strange? The absence of sound remained, punctured only by the stream of end credits as the movie went through its closing stages.

"Uhm, the movie's done," I averted my eyes but I could still feel his on my face, "I should turn it off." Even with that said, I remained seated.

"Luke."

I marveled at how different my name sounded coming from Reid's mouth. Noah's strong 'u's, bold and pronounced.

_ …"Luke," Reid would say, ending with a click in the 'k' and tasting so new…_

I unwillingly met with his somber expression, "Have your feelings changed?" he asked. The wheels in my head turned, attempting to crank out an answer that wouldn't hurt him…or me. Sooner than I could procure an answer, his arms pulled me into a kiss.

My lips clamped shut, unyielding to his cautious nips at my bottom lip. I couldn't feel the butterflies in my stomach.

_ …Hot lips moving skillfully against mine, fingertips grazing my scalp, tongues clashing…_

Then the pressure was gone. I creaked open my eyes when Noah's hand left mine. He focused, clearly disturbed, on the floor.

"So they actually have." His words dredged through the new quiet.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "They have."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I know, I know, you don't want Noah. But it would be totally lame if I just cut him out completely, soon he will be outta here.


	8. Chapter 8

***_Oh my god, I'm remembering that one episode where-in Luke has some momentary insanity and tries to get back together with Noah at the bar when he, Noah, Reid and Richard (wtf Richard…) went out for some awkward drinks. And Noah turns him down, but I wanted to fucking punch him in the face when he said the last thing. He's all, "I can see now. I don't need you." And leaves, like a prick. It made me soooo mad._

_So this one turned out to be long as fuck. Hope you're satisfied w/ it, b/c sadly it's all you'll be getting' for a little while._

_OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo_

"_There's something nostalgic about old VHS tapes," Noah said, popping in his battered copy of 'Casablanca'. It skipped at key plot points and the image flickered, but he wouldn't trade it for a Blu-ray disc. I watched the half of him that wasn't shielded by my propped up foot, plugging in cables and checking to see if it had rewound yet. _

_I crunched on popcorn we'd made, "Noah," I laughed through a mouthful, "It's fine. C'mon." he fiddled with the cord, but the jumping picture stayed in motion. He threw up his arms in mock defeat. He turned to me with a grin; my hand slapped the seat next to me with a resounding clap. Taking his cushion along with a fist of popcorn._

"_So you're gonna pay attention this time?" he raised his eyebrows at me._

"_Sure, sure. Third time's a charm."_

"_Well, good."_

_I stole a sly sideways glance at him, "But four's my lucky number," I said, placing the bowl on the floor. I crawled like panther over to him, putting my hands on his shoulders and ass on his legs._

"_Luke…" he groaned, without the slightest hint of a fight._

"_Hmmmm?" I hummed, leaning closer._

"_We never finish these," he complained with a smile. His cheeks reddened when a hand drifted over his crotch._

"_Okay, fine," I conceded, lifting off his lap in slow motion, awaiting the hands I trusted would pull me back. _

_He laughed as his hands flew up to rub my hips. "Have it your way then," he grumbled into my neck before kissing up my jaw. I craned my neck, giving him more expanse to kiss. He scooted my shirt up and mapped my chest with his hands. The introduction credits lullabyed in the background._

The prehistoric VCR clanked and spat out the now rewound tape with a click. Static buzzed at the completion and set my teeth on edge. I stared dismally at the sparse coffee grounds in the bottom of my cup.

"You don't mean that," Noah said, trying to dismiss my denials of love.

"But I do," I shot back on reflex. He recoiled at the rapid answer, "Sorry, but I…I'm not," I grappled, trying to find apt enough words to describe what I was feeling. God, words flowed so much easier on unresponsive lined paper, rather than to the guy I used to love.

"You're just lost, and hurt. It'll get better," he said soothingly.

"Noah," I met his newly restored eyes square, "I—" he interjected.

"You said," he took a pause, as if he was gathering himself for something, "that there was one thing that would never change." I could feel him searching my features for recognition. He leaned in close enough for our noses to brush.

"What?" I let out a pent up sigh.

"This."

Noah solidly pressed his mouth to mine, digging his fingers into my shoulder blades. Now I recalled, with crystal clarity, it was that day. That day when I let him go. I dropped my heart into the deep waters of letting go. I'd resigned to it. I had watched the last of the ripples fade away, not content, but surviving. How could he do this? Fish that battered heart back up and try to resuscitate it with the pain of our past.

His lips parted, and in doing so loosened mine. He pulled me closer while he attended to my bottom lip, my fingers flexed, not knowing what to do. His lips felt just as they had before, so familiar, tasting around my bottom lip like he always used to. In that halcyon-like time, he would run his caressing hands up my back, make his way down my arms, feel the planes of my chest, and lift me onto him….

But this time his arms were stagnant. They rested tentatively on my back, like unsure limbs waiting for a job as he worked on my mouth, trying to find a way in.

I couldn't grant it. His mouth was tang with disquiet; I cringed knowing I was the source. My not being patient enough, my not understanding as fully as he needed, my inability to wait for his eyesight just so he would say he loved me again—all of me had made him into this man who thought he owed something. That he owed something to my miserable self.

My shoulders slumped. Feeling the drop, Noah faltered, still connected. I tugged back with a smack of unattached lips and looked away. Choosing rather to focus on the penny tilting into the crevice of the couch than whatever look had been placed on Noah's face. Our off-kilter breath returned to normal.

"Luke…" Why did he keep saying my name? That baritone sound of his used to make me shiver inside when he said my name. Who was he saying it to, me or himself?

I didn't move a muscle, didn't bat an eye, "I'm sorry Noah."

His distress was apparent; it coursed through him as he shifted back from me. The way his hands searched for something to occupy themselves with, to hide his hurt. My heart surged with the icy blood of comprehension. _Reid's angry, Noah's upset—because of me. _I'm the kink in their lives, I dirtied the clarity they both had. _I am the problem._

The sad dip to his head as he sat uncomfortably near me worked like electric to get me on my feet. I got up and squeezed his shoulder as I passed. He flinched.

"I'm gonna go," I put out into the dead of the space between us. He remained still and unfazed by my report. I continued, "Will you be here when I get back?"

He slowly turned his head to me with a mix of disbelief and disgust on his face. "What?" I opened my mouth to answer, he threw up a hand and said, "You know what? Save it. I'm gone, I don't need this," he stalked around the couch to face me with daggers in his eyes, "and I don't need you."

_No, you don't, _I thought_. _And he didn't, he never did. What had I done for him beside alienate him from his father and blind him? Where did I get off making anybody responsible for me? I know what I am. I'm an alcoholic, ex-college student, Grimaldi faggot.

_Where do I get off thinking anyone could love me?_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**I chewed absent mindedly on some grainy substance that tasted very near to sawdust, flicking through channels with the sound muted. It was a dry combination which left plenty of room for brooding. Re-runs of oldies flashed by, **as** did the greens of sport fields, colorful wheels of game shows, and weather charts of the news in quick succession. I tapped out a pace on the remote, not exactly acknowledging individual programs.**

**My stomach felt displaced. Like the lousy food I was eating was chewed and then as soon as I swallowed, transported somewhere else entirely. Somewhere queasy and uncomfortable. Katie's voice rung sweetly in my head, "My guess is this has something to do with Luke." **_**Your guess would be right, **_**I said back grudgingly, honest in the privacy of my own mind. **

**Lately everything had to do with Luke. How bright the sun looked, how my coffee tasted, how I responded to whatever unfortunate nurse happened to be on duty—his influence was far reaching. Even after I'd committed to forgetting him. For his sake and for mine. I dropped a foot to the floor, only now realizing I'd halted my channel surfing on a useless infomercial featuring a dimpled, blond man selling me crap I don't need.**

**I tilted my watch to diffuse the glare. Five minutes until that meeting with "Invicta".**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Maybe there are people in this world who just screw things up. Who disfigure people's happiness into something ugly. Maybe, instead of me being a victim of the problem, I'm the conductor.

The second scotch had unfettered my mind. I lulled into the free falling state of intoxication. Swimming in the shallows of 'drunk', wading farther in as the drinks kept on coming. I rolled the small cup between my thumb and index finger. The drink seemed fitting, small and compressed with so much alcohol, good for a situation like mine. A personal pledge to remain alone.

Alone. I gulped down the oath of office in the form of another shot. Me, president of the lonely hearted screw-ups club.

_There Noah, you got your space you were always complaining about, _go make a movie, do what you love. Guilt free.

**It was plainly the worst feeling of my life. Like pneumonia's fragility, the flu's closed up esophagus, and the fever's skin crawling chills—except I sit in perfectly good health, aside from the fresh bruising of my nose. Damn Noah. I reclined on the couch disjointedly, constantly shifting my weight as if to get up and do something.**

_**What would you do Oliver? **_**Saunter back up to Luke and tell him it was a mistake? **_**You know it wasn't. **_**Right? It was an ultimatum I couldn't just dismiss on account of a highschool-esque crush. **_**But this isn't just a crush.**_

**I took a tasteless bite out of my post-op sandwich.**

_**This is your life. **_

**And I may have hurt—no, I HAD hurt the only part that was making it worth something again.**

****

While lamenting wrongs past, I mentally slapped a hand to my forehead, _and __**Reid. **_Brilliant, sexy Reid. Solid, with the confident stance of a general and the cool self assurance of an artist, picking me apart with those petulant eyes. Reid. Neurosurgeon of the ages, and here I think I mean something. I sniggered, it must have sounded utterly disconsolate, from the pitying way the bartender looked at me.

_Typical, Luke. Shooting for the stars, missing, but trying to drag one back down with you. _

I suppose I'll rewrite the phrase, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." Something a little like: "_If you can't have 'em, let 'em go."_

Scotch burned considerably more than beer, I could feel the fire gulp down into my tossing belly. But like lava when it hit the ocean's water, would cool and harden—rendering me a ghostly jumble. I hovered over my body in an alcoholic state, counting the empty glasses. _One, two, three, four…not enough. _And ordered my puppet of a body to get his worthless hands on some more.

OoOoOoOOOoo_**KATIE'S POV**_OoOoOoooOoOoOoOoOo

I rubbed my thumbs in circles over Chris's palm and he smiled that dimpled smile down at me. I returned it eagerly. Our movie date was cheesy, thanks in part to the ridiculous plot, but mostly because of how often one of us would reach out to one another.

"Just on drink, okay?" I said coyly.

He glanced over, "Fine, just one drink for you. I intend to enjoy a few more than that," he grinned.

"Hey!" I mock-slapped his arm, "Work tomorrow, hello?"

He shook his head, "Nope, not tomorrow. I'm free of his royal highness for a couple of days, our shifts don't overlap."

The miniscule nagging that had been MIA for a couple of hours returned. What with Reid being Reid and ditching Luke. _Poor Luke, falling for a guy who won't let himself fall for anyone. _And too assume that just because Reid was my roommate that he would listen, is giving completely too much credit. I'd tried. I threw him out the door with a mission, and like a boomerang he shot right back not a half hour later, looking darker than ever. His snarkiness was set to maximum power when I left to meet Chris. _Man oh man, that guy, _I thought.

"How about this one?" I inquired, looking up at the bar sign. Irish pub, flushing the street corner with neon beer ads. It seemed calm enough that we would be able to hear each other, but full enough that we wouldn't be heard by every other person.

"Looks okay," he followed my gaze, opening the door for me.

We opted for a booth; movie popcorn wasn't the most filling so splitting an appetizer was harmless.

"I think I like this place," Chris said, looking around, "Doesn't smell like and ash tray. Maybe we'll come back here." He looked at me meaningfully, I giggled. "Are you joking? Every single one of these guys is smoking a cigar." I really did like him, thank goodness I left Jacob with Nancy because the way this night was going….

"Absolutely, we'll come back," I beamed around the small pub. "Oh my god," I said astonished, as my eyes fell on a destitute blond. He'd had that jacket for years, no denying, that was Luke.

"What?" he asked.

"Luke," I whispered. He hissed through his teeth, "He looks _drunk." _He looked from me then back to Luke, "What should we do?"

"I got it," I said, rustling a hand in my purse. I pulled out a phone and a battered business card. Reid's going away present: his pager number. _Here goes._

**My pager buzzed and beeped across the table top next to my foot. I pounced on it, "Thank god." Nothing could clear my mind like a good hour or so in surgery. I scanned the message, **_**well, that's not Memorial's number, **_**it was Katie's. It was a short address not far from here. I pocketed the device and after cramming my feet back into the shoes I kicked off, beat it out the door. What was the emergency?**

**OoOoOoOoOoO KATIE's POV OoOoOoOoOoOo**

I clicked shut my phone and buried it back from whence it came. I let out a girlish sigh and looked up at Chris, "Well, Reid'll be here soon, let's go back to your place." His forehead crinkled up in surprise, "Oh? Back to my place?" and placed a suggestive hand over mine.

"Cool it, tiger. I'm just protecting myself from the wrath of a tricked neurosurgeon and a drunk Luke," I smiled at the hint of disappointment coloring his eyes. I leaned in a pecked him chastely on the lips, "Come on," I said, pulling him out of his seat with a loud screech.

****

**The two divergent street signs perched atop one another matched the address on my tiny beeper screen. My nose crinkled at the constant waft of smoke. **_**This is a bar. **_**Burly men and a couple belly shirt wearing women lounged outside the door, puffing on cigarettes. Brassy numbers above the entrance confirmed it, defiantly the place. **_**Better be damn important…**_**and I stepped in through the ripe whoosh of booze.**

**I scanned the dim room, in search of a certain blond, but my eyes halted on another. **_**Shit. **_**And so the reason is revealed. I pressed my lips together, although this was not entirely unexpected, I'm coming to see that Luke is way beyond recreational drinking. This was damn unhealthy. **

**I took stride over to his crumbled figure. He had one foot hung off the stool like a toddler, his jacket had peeled halfway down his shoulder, and his head was face down in the crook of his elbow. The unfortunate bartender was prodding his arm slung lifelessly beside an empty shot glass. His arm received a quick, blind whack. Without budging he mumbled, "Gerroff…" which I'm assuming was actually meant to be 'Get off'.**

**The Bartender was a sullen looking guy, fed up with his job even though it wasn't yet 11 o' clock. He draped the counter rag over his forearm and said in trying tones, "Look man, we're gonna need that seat soon." I glanced around the semi full bar, the rumble of conversation was overpowering the music.**

"**You've already been cut off," he continued, clearing away two shot glasses left behind, "so beat it."**

**With surprising agility, Luke grabbed the button front of the man's shirt and pulled him down to eye level. I heard his teeth click together as his chin thumped to the counter matching Luke's gaze, which I couldn't see. **

"**Get. Off." He growled dangerously.**

Thoughts were fluttering in and out of my inebriated brain like angry bees. The only one that stuck was the pain. I wanted to share it, pass it on, so that maybe my own would dull. My hand squeezed pilled fabric of the stranger's shirt, he was the one holding me back. It was him who wouldn't allow me to forget, live and let be. I don't want that. I can still remember, still feel—this was supposed to take it all away like it used to. I wheeled an arm back, ready to deck the son of a bitch, when my scalp prickled me to move my attention elsewhere.

I directed my eyes to the left, though they were slow to obey. _Yep, source. _Reid stood a hair's breadth from me. I just registered his hand on my elbow. He met my eyes with a stern sadness, I looked away to watch his opposite hand prying each of my suddenly rubbery fingers off the reddening bartender's shirt. He wrenched out of my grasp.

"Get him the fuck out of here," the man sneered.

I kicked off the stool and snatched at his face, "What'd you say?" he moved too quickly back and I made contact with only empty air. Strong hands clamped my arms to my sides and wrenched me into the aisle. Blood slopped around in my head and my vision warped momentarily causing me to sidle over. The ground rushed to meet my face and I scrunched my eyes closed in anticipation of some type of pain. But those same hands wrapped around my chest before I completely collapsed. They were so tight and warm I folded my own hands up to meet them.

**He pushed my arms closer to him; my fingertips graced the slight 'v' of his shirt and met with creamy skin.**

It felt like I twisted every vertebrate around, craning to look behind me. Trying to place the hands, strangling the flow of blood out of my arms, to the emotion on his face. "H-hey," I thrashed out of his grip and aimed to place a hand on his chest, somehow stopping him, just to see. But I ended up palming his neck. The brute force i had used to halt him fizzled out as I became uniquely aware of the person I was man handling, and who was in turn manhandling me.

The maddening drunk grip turned into a caress. Feeling just for the sake of having the touch of another. My pinky and ring finger hid in the collar of his rumpled button up. Maroon. I followed the button trail up as it peeled away into the muscular tendons of his neck. My eyes tumbled over his adam's apple, half hidden by my thumb, and continued to his strong chin. Reid's tulip shaped lips were pursed lazily against one another, my gaze crossed the bridge of his nose into the depth of his eyes. I faltered and slipped on the ice that had frozen over them.

My arm dropped from his neck like a limp piece of meat, my finger tips tingled from the loss of heat and I suddenly became very aware of a chill in the air. But I wasn't quite sure if that was due to Mother Nature or the hardened way Reid stared at me. Then I realized...he hadn't said a single word to me. Not one.

** Luke stood unsteadily, wobbling almost comically. But there wasn't an ounce of humor to be had in me. The harsh musk of alcohol rolling off of his body drained it out of me. Even I could feel the steely way my eyes bore into his booze-stupid face. He swayed, waving his jacket around, trying to pull it to cover himself. Reclaiming his balance, he mustered all the focus he could, and accounting for all the scotch he'd had...there wasn't much to be spoken for. **

**His movements were exaggerated. He took hard, wide steps, a simple lean could turn into a damaging plunge, and his arms swung like pendulums at his sides. All of that movement, alcohol, and...Hurt contained inside of him.**

** He rose his eyebrows into the scruffy bangs hanging on his forehead, "Wassamatter?" his speech mashed what would have been a sentence into one word, "Hm?" he held impossibly still and tilted his head to the side. **_**What's the matter? I'm not sure what I'm going to do with you. Katie, why'd you have to force this on me?**_** When did I become his keeper? I'd resigned to let him go, leave him-a momentary lapse in judgment-and pursue my sure-fire career, pursue my life. **

** And yet here he was. And yet more puzzling, here I was. I guess without realizing, I'd already made my decision.**

****

Same posh-looking couch, same carpet, TV hulking in the same place, same bread crumb adorned plates littering every flat surface, and same dissappoined face diffusing me, atom by atom. The room was unfocused, gratuitous alcohol took care of that. As if every plane was covered in a soft film of dust, leaving hardly outlines and barely colors. But my body warmed with remembrance. My fingers felt the scratch of the fabric, the ache in my groin, the beads of sweat on my forehead, the anxiety in my heart...they all remembered so well.

I flushed in the hectic memory and shook my head, which put me off balance; I rocked on my heels in attempt to save myself. "Oh," I yelped, _center of gravity lost, _I thought bleakly until those same hands caught me as they had before. I thumped into his chest and grab a fistful of the jacketed arm that was hung across my front. He walked me toward the couch, my feet tumbling uncoordinated behind, throwing me on it so hard my teeth clicked together. I rubbed at my jaw and mumbled, "Don't have to be so rough _doctor_, you'll break something..." I trailed off, "something else." I stared at his knees in front of me. Watching his feet shift as he said, "And what's that suppose to mean?" From on high, his voice dropped down and lay on my shoulders-heavy with disdain. This yoke was too heavy.

** His head popped up like a timer had gone off. Hazy brown eyes gave no answer and his lips remained still. But his hand lobbed up to his chest and crumpled the navy cotton of his shirt. "Guess," he said rustily. My throat constricted.**

****

** I'd wandered around in blatant annoyance, stalked up and down the room in enmity, shoved a glass of room temperature water into my ward's hand (which he promptly dumped on the coffee table), chucked my keys on the kitchen counter-nothing left to do but pop the tab of a Budweiser and plop on the recliner opposite Luke. He shifted to sit on his foot with his hands pawed out like a cat. **

** I scratched my nose, he ruffled his hair. I coughed, he yawned. I scrunched my eyebrows together, he licked his lip. To and fro. Occupying the unforgivingly tense silence I'd created to rest in the two feet spanning between us.**

**"Sooooo..." he drug out with a half smile, "you gonna gimme a sip a that?"**

**"Are you fucking kidding?" I snarled, slamming the drink on the table. It sloshed over my fingers, tickling them as the fizz bubbled.**

**"Touchy, touchy Dr. Oliver. What's got you so wound up?" he spoke to my face, but his pupils dilated with want, seeing only the beer still death clenched in my hand.**

** He glided out a hand and tugged my hand off the can, calling all of the other fingers to follow. I noticed that he wasn't so much staring at the damned beverage, but the digits holding it. I warily let him remove my hand, a couple stray drops made dark splotches on his jeans as he pulled it close. His mouth parted and his bottom lip rolled as he licked the inside of it-for a sick second I thought he was going to bite me. But I was all too enraptured in the solid way he held my hand to pull away.**

** No one had held my hand like that before. I thought it a cheesy gesture of romance that was better reserved for the starry-eyed teenagers prancing around at a fair. I had to admit, it felt...nice? I'm not sure, but the unexpected farmer roughness of his palms and the writing callous on his middle finger-it wasn't as tacky as I once thought.**

** He flipped my hand over, knuckles up, and slowly stuck my beer drenched fingers in that sinful mouth of his. My jaw clenched in surprise and a pulse shot through my loins. Unconcerned by my immediate reaction, his tongue threaded between my three fingers licking them clean, but soiling my mind. I numbly withdrew my hand from his, the last of his tastebuds disconnecting, his hold was just a touch.**

**"Hah," I started, looking for a word, but failing. His shinning lips and the unabashed way his eyes threw me the once over took the words right out of my mouth.**

** He abruptly staggered to his feet and made to climb on my chair, erasing the distance I'd forgotten about 5 minutes past. He wedged his knee between my thighs-threateningly close to my half erection. He leaned in, providing me with the purely masculine smell of cigars and alcohol, rolling off his clingy shirt. Lazily drunk arms propped on either side of my head, creating an enclave of Luke. **

** It may have been the feckless proximity, or the heedlessly bold manner that was characteristically not him, or maybe the drunken way he swayed which clued me back to the reality of the situation we landed ourselves in to say, "Luke. Get off." Though my body thought otherwise, lucidly enjoying the friction of his knee and my crotch. With hesitation, his eyes swept over me.**

**"You don't want me, do you?" he declared dully. His already cloudy eyes looked like they were about to rain. **

_**Don't want you?**_

**It wasn't the first time Luke Snyder was wrong, but it certainly wouldn't be the last, **_**is he for real? **_**Can't he feel what he does to me? Can't he feel the tension surging through my body at the mere thought of touching him? I can feel every angle of him pressing into me. And it's making me crazy. I'm coiled up trying-begging, my body not to obey the need it gets every time**_**...every**_** time... God, when I feel this so painfully acute...how can he not see?**

** He looked up and beyond at nothing, "It's okay. No one does. The utter loneliness permeating his voice ebbed away my anger. **_**Is this why you drink? **_**He tucked his chin in, "But you did. Once. Bet you regret that," and he sat back, half on my knees, half on the thick armrest with a hand to his temple.**

**"God," he said, in a worn kind of exasperation. "I always just," he flailed an arm around, "I dunno**_**...fuck **_**things up for people." **

** He'd been talking in the direction of a mod vase of Katie's on the other side of the room. Then he looked down at me, "Y'know?" He paled, "Of course you would know. I tried to fuck you over too-oh!" he almost toppled backward onto the glass table. I hugged him around the middle in a split second, his hands were on my chest, "Jesus, Luke..." I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut.**

**"You know," he whispered into my scalp, where he decided to rest his chin, "you really are smart."**

**I couldn't keep the smile out of my voice, "Duh."**

**"No really," he positioned me so our eyes met. "Choosing your job over," he swallowed and his eyes became glassy, "me."**

**"Look-" I tried.**

** And then he was kissing me. **

I clamped on his top lid, loving the way his mouth was so pliable in the moment of ambush. I think he'd forgotten about his hands around my waist, but they were pulling me closer. _Let's hope he's forgotten what he was about to say too._ I ran my hands up to his neck and held him still when I tugged away for a quick inhale. His eyes were little shinning slits, "Lu-" I latched onto his mouth again. _No._ I psycho-pleaded with him, _please don't tell me to stop, don't tell me to go away...please._

_**Damn Luke for being such an amazing kisser. **_**He had this way of shaking all coherent thought from my brain like an etch-a-sketch. He rocked his nimble hips forward and ground his knee straight into a sensitive point, I hissed into his mouth. A drunken fumble doused me like cold water back into human time and space. I yanked my lips away. But I had to fight the urge to jump right back in, seeing his pouted lips move for more and the desperate way his thumb cut down my jaw.**

_**He's smashed, **_**I told myself, **_**don't use this as an excuse to take advantage of him/**_** In spite of the painful throbbing in my crotch, I managed to keep away.**

**"Reid," he breathed, lips sticking to mine, not asking for a kiss but wanting the same oxygen. He kicked the knee touching my arousal around so that his thighs lay outside of mine and rolled his hips. Setting him just so our twin erections brushed with each bat of an eye. Lips still teased against mine he stroked my sides.**

**"Um, Luke...?**_**" Stop, stop, stop-not good.**_** He idly curled his fingers around my hand and guided it to the discrete jeaned place between his legs. Heat furled off him into my palm and my own fingers itched to undo the cool, metal zipper.**

**"That felt good, that one time..." he murmured.**

** We were both intoxicated-in one way or another. Him with gratuitous amounts of scotch, and me with him. The heaty fragrance of arousal and booze swirled together as he bore down on me. **_**God I love his neck, **_**I thought, gracing my lips on his collar bone. Such flawlessly soft skin on his crane-like neck, buttery and easy to bruise. I rubbed over the fabric of his pants and grabbed his behind. He bucked slightly, my grimly set jaw slackened and I peeled open his pants. Might as well relish in harassing him if I was, once again, letting him take me away.**

Finally, the snap of my pant button and tweak of the zipper was like granting permission for me to breathe again. I'd been holding it since his hands were set on me. The relief lasted momentarily, only to suck in a staggering breath when Reid's hand positively crawled down from my naval. _Is he teasing me?_ He pushed down my briefs. Slowly inching one side, then the other while his other hand mimicked behind me. _He is._

The elongated time made my skin ache with hyper-sensitivity. I could sense every grove of his hand, maybe even the swirl of his finger prints, dousing my pores with pure desire. I drew back my shoulders, shifting them around, attempting not to scream with impatience. This was killing me.

** He huffed laboriously at keeping still, waiting for me to make the move to his no doubt straining dick. **_** How does it feel? To have something this close-torturing you? **_**I knew the feeling well. It was him. Always torturing me with his quasi-presence, never able to be all there. Until now. **

** I skimmed all around the skin of his satin thighs and the gentle 'v' arrowing to his groin. "Reid," he gurgled through puffs of air, his darkened eyes searched out mine, "please just touch me." My neck grew hot, and my hand folded around his cock.**

** Luke's hand curled at the back of my neck in appreciation. I didn't make a motion to move yet, and he seemed to be okay with just the contact for now. I wanted to soak it in; I loved him melting in my hands like chocolate. I loved the control I'd been grasping for returning with each helpless moan. But what I loved more was the simplicity of his reaction to me. Whatever it was he was feeling, whether it be confusion, hatred, irritation...affection-it was for me and solely me.**

** I corkscrewed my hand once, eliciting a mouth watering groan from Luke. I twiddled my fingers around his cock, listening to his breathing build up and grow steadily faster. He became wetter at the tip by the second. I smeared his pre-cum down his shaft, slow and tight in my palm. My shirt crinkled over my back as he wrung more of the fabric in his compressed moans. "Hnng," he jutted out, my pace speeding up with each pump. His hips rutted slightly against me. **_**Oh no no. We're doing this my way.**_** I stilled his hips while continuing to jack him off.**

** His lips perked and his eyes peeked heatedly at me. "Reid...ah..." he moaned breathily, thickening my own hard on. My hand slid up and down, twisting and turning my wrist, coaxing all sorts of startled noises and cut-short breaths from him. **_**Luke, you are fucking...sexy,**_** I thought bemused, raking my view over his disheveled hair and cupie lips.**

** His body against mine. That's where his mind belonged-not floating with the clouds or bequeathed to Noah. Why couldn't he see that?**

I felt the familiar clenching in my lower stomach; it snaked through my body driving me into incomprehension. The only thing I could feel was the mounting pressure and schliking motion of Reid's hand on me.

** His abs squirmed beneath my fingers and his eyebrows ascended slightly. With a heady sigh, he bent into my shoulder, cutting the view of his face. There are few things more arousing in the world than the noises Luke makes. And the one was his sex face.**

** I constricted a finger ring around the base of his cock, pressing 'pause' before he could come. **

**"Luke," I said throatily, carried away in his passion despite myself, his breath caught I braced him up until his misty eyes aligned with mine.**

**"Hah," he huffed, "What...?"**

**I smiled at his labored control, "Nothing," I whispered, releasing him.**

** He let out a hearty noise, licking his top lip and leaving his mouth slack while he rode out his orgasm. The groan creshendoed into a satisfied hum with his back arched and head slumped on his right shoulder.**

** He blindly combed his hand through my hair, sighing with still drunken content. "You know..." he lolled, eyes still closed, "I want you too." With just enough time to see the shock flit across my face, he opened his eyes. They focused with dark intensity, "I **_**like **_**you too."**

And then the room went black.


	9. Chapter 9

_Y'know…in a lot of the fics I've read, Luke is usually portrayed as the effeminate one (in Noah OR Reid stories). Why? Must be b/c he's smaller, messy-boy hair and those adorable pink lips. I mean, I see him as a definite bottom, but…he's still a dude. If we're gonna go juvie on this situation and compare his manliness to that of Noah and/or Reid, he's punched more men than those two combined (yep, that constitutes a man). I mean, he's got this great, strong upper body and—I dunno, just don't make him a little pussy, b/c he's not._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOo

**Cinnamon infused steam warmed its way up my nose. Coffee gushed down my throat. First shot of caffeine in the morning. The spicy scent charmed through the house, making it smell like some jolly old time with lots of cooking and cheer. I snuffed like Scrooge dismally. **

**Katie bought this girly coffee, knowing my 'Java' preference. It wasn't going to be me, but someone should inform her that there is a great difference between an occasional latte and fluffy coffee every morning. I leaned lightly on the kitchen counter, not my usual haunt, but the couch was otherwise occupied. I sipped at the coffee.**

**Luke's one leg had broken free of the comfort of the couch and was making to hit the floor. The grey button-up he sported stretched, pulled, wrinkled and snagged all over his body from his nighttime thrashing. Two measly buttons kept the shirt from revealing his **_**entire **_**expanse of chest. The leg still grounded to the cushion was curled to his navel while his arms splayed carelessly over the side and top of the love seat. His hair was a sexed-up mess, pointing every which way, unruly pieces shielding an eye from view—it was quite hot actually, the whole package.**

"_**I like you too." **_**His voice thrummed in my mind. Sip.**

**His words last night were remnants of a sexual high, it would be foolish to take them at face value. Sip. Foolish to drop the iron gates I've taken years to secure around myself simply because a shit-faced blonde let them loose.**

**Sip.**

**He breathed the lethargic tempo of sleep, his chest billowing up then deflating in even succession. I analyzed his snoozing features, **_**but you don't take this stuff lightly, **_**I thought seriously. Sip. Luke was honest with his heart, an attribute I fear I'll never come to possess.**

It was warm. Getting warmer. _Why is it so warm? _A wet sheen of sweat surfaced on my skin, my stomach rolled around and danced with sick. _I'm on my back, _my brain managed through the haze of pain in my temples. _Not a good place to be in when I—_

**He tumbled off the couch with a thump onto all fours. He winced, green-faced, at his knees as they snapped. I set the remains of my coffee down behind me. Something one inherited from working in a high risk hospital situation was a unique quality of calm. Checking down the mental list in about .000001 seconds flat, I could safely surmise that Luke was about to toss his beans.**

**Turning to the cupboard, I clinked out a glass and rotated it in my hand, it was printed daintily with flowers. **_**Psh, he'll like that, **_**I thought sarcastically, tweaking the faucet on. The hiss of water nearly drowned out the clomp of his one shoed run. **_**Does he even know where the bathroom is? **_**I wondered faintly, shaking out a couple aspirin. The splash and cough of vomit confirmed that indeed he did. I finished off the dense remainder of my overly eventful coffee before gathering up Luke's oh-so-professional treatment.**

You'd think I'd be used to it. Used to watching bile and swill spew out of my stomach. But the magical sensation of making meals past reappear never quite loses its charm. _Please God, _I bargained desperately, my throat branded with acid, _I'll never drink again if you just let this be done, please. _I'd bartered worse things before, like when I was sixteen and in much the same position of being bent in half over the toilet. Pleading that if the relentless gush of puke would stop, I'd _make _myself straight. I croaked out a laugh, clearly that didn't happen.

My eyes bulged and filled with tears from the pressure. Apparently this deal wasn't suiting whatever torturous god was up there either, as the porcelain bucket filled even further.

**He hadn't noted my presence yet, what with his face in the bowl. I ran cool water over a pink wash cloth, a nice feminine partner for the girly cup set nearby. I glanced over my shoulder at Luke, rubbing my hands in a dry towel. His messy hair hung over his eyes, his mouth open like a gate, waiting for the sick to overtake him. His arms braced on the seat shook and his shoulder blades stood out, not yet ready to give up. He panted harshly, limbs shinning with perspiration—**_**poor kid.**_

My breath reverberated around the toilet bowl pounding in my ears and echoing like a cave. A last few dry heaves wracked my body and rippled the cloudy water. "Ha…ah," I sighed in shaky conclusion, sending a memo to the rest of me that it was fin. With sour relief, I pressed my cheek to the seat, trying not to shut my mouth—I didn't want to taste it.

"You know, peoples' ass cheeks have been all over that," a voice droned close by. Too exhausted to startle, I raised my eyes and looked at Reid. If I weren't so pale I would've blushed.

"I'm sorry," I managed, the apology sounded pitiful even to me. I let my eyelids drop shut, wanting to cut off contact, his seeing me like this.

"I threw up in your toilet," I moaned. The whoosh of water close to my face surprised my eyes back open. He was a scarce few inches away, his hand withdrew from the handle.

"You barfed in _Katie's _toilet."

**He wrung out a miniscule smile, dimples divoting his face. "Sorry," he murmured, eyes moist with unshed tears. One dribbled from the pool drowning his irises and trailed down his cheek.**

"**Oh jeez," he creaked embarrassed, "I'm not crying, I'm…just…from being sick…" he rubbed an eye with his wrist. **

**I felt a swell of protection billow up, it was a very alien feeling. It invaded my motor skills and had me reach out, armed with the cool cloth to wipe away the stray drop. He paused and met my eyes with concern—and that ever present confusion. Watching my own hand, I allowed it to fall to rest on his hot neck. **

**I cleared my throat and released his, "All done?"**

**He nodded, "I'm sorry," his voice raspy and still bashful.**

"**You already said that, I really don't care that you up-chucked in Katie's toilet."**

**He downcast his eyes which I had felt warming my face, "You know it's for more than just that."**

**I searched for a way to say it's not okay but it is…? I loosely wrung the washcloth in my hands. It's really not okay. But, I don't know if there's someone around him to say that **_**he's **_**okay. The way everyone seemed to jump down his throat, I don't want to be that for him, but every drug and alcohol protection course screams that I'd be playing the part of 'enabler' if I just let this slip by. He'd gotten his free pass before, I plopped the moist rag in the sink with a squelch and faced him. My mouth was poised to say (yell) what's what... but he wasn't even looking at me. **

**In fact he seemed entirely focused on the area near my feet; I rocked on the balls of them as his blond head cocked to the side.**

"**Did you know that your middle toe is longer than your big toe?" he croaked.**

"**What?" I stuttered, taken aback, "yeah, that's how it's suppost to be." I wiggled my toes to emphasize a point.**

"**Nuh-uh," he tilted his head to look at me and smile woozily.**

"**I bet even your toes do it," I challenged, crouching down. He lacked a shoe, so I pinched the toe of his right foot, tugging the sock off.**

"**See?" he curled his even toes, "You're a gimpy freak, Reid." **

**I smiled and gave his sole a quick tickle. He laughed, but quickly withdrew it. I clapped his knee definitively before something ridiculous babbled out and said, "Shower, Mr. Snyder," his cheeks colored with a blush and he shifted to a tired stand. We stared for a solid ten seconds, neither quite willing to be the one to look away. It was a tad like a straight face contest we fell into accidentally. **

"**So," I sighed, forfeiting the match, turning to prepare the complicated shower of Katie's. The smallness of the bathroom suddenly felt much closer than before, especially with the prospect of Luke's inevitable nakedness. I pulled the curtain aside, hearing each individual wrung screech.**

"**Here, I got it," a catching voice said near my neck, making me jump as he reached around to turn the knob. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth—shifting **_**something **_**as he withdrew. His hands went immediately for the last two buttons of his shirt. He shucked the askew garment and slipped out of his single shoe then smoothly looped the belt out of his jeans. He almost unsnapped his pants before thinking better and let his arms fall to the side.**

_**Thank God.**_

**I cleared my throat testingly, conquering whatever it was seeping through me, and faced him full front.**

"**You're good then?" my voice thankfully even, if toneless. He looked at his knuckles and smiled in a faint way.**

"**Yeah," he looked with melting brown eyes. "Really," he stressed, "Thank you."**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo Oo**

Water poured in hot tendrils down my back, turning my face into the stream; I let it wash off just…everything. Blinking away the lingering water droplets, I scanned the soap selection. _Shampoo, shampoo…_ I pondered the four bottles at attention. Grabbing the black bottle and took a big whiff and was assaulted by some coconut, pineapple and the most sickeningly sweet girly scent. "Whoa," I uttered, replacing it in the lineup. Trading for a green bottle, it was nearly empty so I thought to put it back out of kindness, but the scent wafted in the steam. A clean sort of musky soap, sharp with undertones of mintyness. Distinctly Reid, this was his smell. Without a second thought I squirted some in my palm.

Lathering the suds through my hair, I counted tiles and let my mind wander. _What did you do Luke? _I scrubbed furiously at my scalp. _That's three times now he's had to deal with you. _Three times now he's seen me at my most deplorable, my lowest. _How can he even look at me without a sneer?_ Foam tickled down my body as I submerged beneath the stream to rinse.

And yet, he does.

Cutting the water, I pulled back the curtain to step out. With dismay, I glanced around for a towel, knowing there wasn't one. Or clothes. I hated to ask him for more than he's already given me, but what could I do? Waltz around naked? That would really help with the alcoholic image. So hesitantly, I cracked the door, releasing a billow of steam into the hall and looked both ways for a closet. No good. _Fantastic._

"Uhh, Reid?" I inquired of the quiet apartment.

It answered lazily, "Yea."

"Ah, sorry, I need a towel."

"Beg me for it."

I rolled my eyes, but a grin crept on my face, "C'mon," I feigned exasperation.

"Fine, fine, because you asked so nicely," he sighed loudly, with a matching grin I could feel. The sofa creaked and papers rustled when he stood. I left the door be and stepped over to the sink, swiping my hand across the condensation on the mirror, observing my blurred image. From what I could glean, it was much better.

**I shuffled some work papers off my lap and passed by the laundry room, grabbing a fresh towel for Luke. Pausing by the washer, I snagged a pair of well broken in college sweats and a plain blue tee I hardly wore, something about the color…. **

**Steam leaked out of the bathroom like a sauna, I nudged open the door with full intention of simply depositing this load on the sink, but I stilled. Foolishly, I'd assumed he would be hidden behind the translucent veil of the shower, but when does he ever do what is expected…or practical. No, he leant fully naked over the sink, braced up on his hands mildly observing his reflection and shaking his head.**

**The towel was growing warmer in my hands, so warm they began to sweat. I rubbed the cotton threads and shifted forward a step, watching as his unaware head ceased the dog shake. Hair strands, damp with shower, overlapped each other in a careless mess as he rubbed water from his eyes. **

_**Bad bad bad.**_

**There I remained, frozen with an armful of clothes, transfixed on the nakedness of this man I'd been lusting after for months. Right before me, the curve of his neck connecting to a strong jaw, the slope of his back into the curve of his ass, then extending down his long legs. My eyes tracked, awestruck, all over him—unable to pull away. Drowning in the sheen of water swathing him in a dewy shimmer, highlighting his broad shoulders as small rivelettes shimmied down his back. A few running drops dribbled over his transplant scar, but another of a different nature caught my eye.**

**Only about as big as a half dollar coin, with a very faint incision straight through it lay right next to his spine. Not so much a mar, but a mark of Luke's past, making his body all the more a wonder for me. I crawled over the hard planes of his body with a hungry reverence. Not truly wanting to soil it with the insurmountable thoughts sullying my mind, but thrilling how easy it could be. **

**Luke shook his head vigorously, freeing his locks of water and beading his skin with the droplets. And **_**that's **_**when he noticed me gawking just inside. **

Blinking hair out of my eyes, I could clearly see Reid standing casually in the doorway, now fully open. Chills ran up my arms, tingling their way down to my toes which curled on the tile floor. I was blissfully unaware of my stark nakedness—that is until Reid's eyes made a distinct path past my navel and came to rest on…well.

I squeaked out some sort of yelp as my hands flew to various exposed body parts, in a vain attempt to conceal what he had already made a study of. Finally my forearm came to rest on top of as much of my crotch as could be hidden. Then I tried that suddenly unachievable act of speaking, "Ah, what're you—ah…can I _help _you?" His eyes, still fixated on my nether regions, flicked up to meet my no doubt frantic face.

"Brought you a towel," he indicated with a lazy jab beside him.

I felt a little breathless, "So you figured you could just come on in?"

"Door was open," he said with a step forward.

"Doesn't mean you can just come in," I snapped weakly, still more embarrassed that we were having this semi-argument while I was shivering in my birthday suit.

"No?" he asked, with hardly subtle teasing.

"No." Another step. A faint smile crossed his lips.

"Where do you get off?" I warbled nervously, shrinking against the wall. His eyebrows rose immediately, _God_ his pupils were huge. And roaming, just roaming up and down and tracking all over the skin I couldn't hide.

He was awfully close now. Close enough where I could reach out and put my palm to his chest and stop him…. But from the second he took that initial step, I knew I wouldn't want to.

_oO give up Luke._

OoOoOoOoOoOoooOoooooOoooOooO o

"Is Katie home?" My voice trembled at the implications of my questions, whether he caught it or not.

"No," he rumbled, placing one hand on the wall behind my head. I allowed my own hand to drift down to the waist of his flannels, my palms burning with an abnormal hotness. He leaned farther in, in a way that the beginnings of his hard on _just _pressed on my hipbone. Responding, I maneuvered my hand to allow my fingers to rest lewdly close to his engorging cock.

"Is this okay?" I spoke, but it came out whispery. His lips were near touching mine.

"Why do you ask such stupid questions?" he hissed, grabbing my hand and grinding his hard-on into my palm with a grunt. I released a shuddering sigh as he latched onto my neck, just below the ear. For the brashness he'd shown in the down low, he was lighting such gentle kisses. Sucking lightly, he moved down my neck, swerving his tongue in sinuous patterns. Feeling his warm breath pool over my throat, I rubbed firm circles over his still clothed groin. Our bodies trapped against the wall, daring to take it further.

Reid's hands were on my neck and face, fingers splayed out enough to cover my cheek with the smooth pads. His breath was coming faster at the cause of my hand. Quickly his own hand dropped, scrapping my stomach before it met my still defending forearm. His mouth paused on my collarbone, "Move your arm."

I was becoming more and more weary at how odd this situation was. 1. How Dr. Reid Oliver, Mr. I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-you-Mr. Snyder finds me shit faced at a bar. 2. Somehow drags me to his apartment. 3. How I have some recollection of his hands blissfully all over me in all the right places. 4. Showers me and finally, 5 now has his tongue tracing sinful designs on my clavicle….No way. No fucking way is this just _happening. _

"Wait," I murmured half-heartedly, not wanting to relinquish what this promised (namely the first sex I'd had in...let's not say) but, Jesus that sounded needy. I tried again, "Reid, wait," his name burned my lips. Had I ever said it? It was answer enough when he stopped dead and looked at me with apparition. I withdrew my flaccid hand from his obviously throbbing crotch.

"Why?" his voice took on a higher quality. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Reid was whining.

Good thing I know better.

"We're not even gonna talk?"

His fingers hovered on my face, "About…" he goaded.

"Oh my god!" Whacking his hand away I proceeded to tell him 'about what'.

"About the fact that I threw up in that toilet," I jammed my finger toward it, "and before that I passed out on your couch, and before _that_ you found me fucking drunk. And _now _we're going to do something completely crazy and you're not even going to ask what the fuck's _wrong with me?" _

I waited, his arms hung plainly at his sides and not a flicker of expression crossed his features as he analyzed me. "That doesn't matter right now," he said.

I could've slapped him, but instead snarled, "Why? Because you're horny?" I gestured at the remaining lump in his pants that was still holding on.

"No, because it doesn't matter at this moment, right now," he said matter of factly.

"Oh, because it'll be just fine after you screw me and leave," hysterics were jumping around in my head, bouncing off the walls of my skull and jumbling the measly arguments I had for NOT letting Reid Oliver take me.

"_Because it won't happen again." _ I blinked hastily, feeling kind of water eyed—for a second I almost believed him.

"It will," my voice was low. He studied my face for fissures; I shifted and looked away rubbing at my stomach. Then slowly and with uncharacteristic warmth, he propped his forearms on either side of my head and drew close. Choosing to keep my eyes averted and have them remain so, I focused on the drips of water still falling from my body. Watching them fall and splat at my even toes, just inches from his staggered ones.

Reid disagreed with this position and tilted my chin up, "Why?" he asked flatly. Ah, there it was. That same look of incomprehension as the rest of them. He wouldn't know.

"I'm weak," I croaked, fighting his grip so that I wouldn't have to see the affirmation in his eyes. I am weak. I am, I was, I always will be.

The silence was loud in my head, I waited for the weight of his arms on my shoulders to disappear and for the rest of him to follow suit. But he didn't. Instead, a hand cupped my jaw, tilted my head and strong, parted lips closed on mine. Sighing long and slow, I let it happen, let myself enjoy it, swoon in it. For a split second he pulled his lips off and said sternly, "No. You're not," it fanned across my mouth and I sucked it in. Willing that I might have it.

**Luke's mouth was fleetingly unyielding beneath mine. Those cupid bow lips were hard to my advances, but I could taste it. It was there, that tangy desire his body tried valiantly to suppress, and as in due course, they opened and I delved into the most dangerous place of my life. The deepest parts of Luke.**

**I was sealing a deal. We'd both said "no" at some point, and the other somehow managed to extract compliance. But this time I was licking that bitter strip of the envelope and closing it up. Strong, scared Luke would be mine. **

**The sheen of water glossing his body mixed with the beginnings of aroused sweat. I nudged him against the wall and he flinched with the cold. My fingers laced through slippery strands of hair, I dragged them down. Teasing the sides of his face, then arms and down his sides until they came to rest on the slight of his hip bones. Guiding his range of motion, I ground him against me, wetting the front of my pants with the water not yet dried on his rapidly engorging dick. He swung his arms to wrap around my shoulders, deepening the kiss. Our tongues flitted about with one another, dabbing at corners of mouths, nipping at lips and striking on teeth in their haste. Luke's throat rippled with a swallow as my tongue resumed its route over the bulge of his adam's apple.**

**One of his hands snuck behind me and pressed the small of my back forcibly to relieve his straining erection, pushing and moving my body in tandem with his own. The friction was murderous, coinciding with the scratch and chafe of fabric. A hard groan worked its way between my lips and amidst the huff of Luke's own labored breaths, a chuckle scourged my ears. **_**Alright, **_**I thought, **_**that's enough control for one day. **_**With mechanic surety, I stapled his body to wall with my own. He gasped in surprise and took his lower lip in, I smiled at the startled arousal burning his face.**

**Locking our eyes, I dragged my hand slowly down the underside of his arm, sensing his muscles recoil. Feather light, I tapped through the center of his chest, careful to tread over his navel, snail slow the closer I got to where he wanted me to be. His body was tense with expectation. My fingers split into a dirty 'live well and prosper' signal around his shaft. Still as lethargic as torturously possible, I enrobed his dick with the entirety of my palm. Luke sighed with revelry, stretching his back hotly against the wall, shutting his eyes with pleasure as I began to stroke him.**

**Not sure of his choice pace yet (sober and fully vested), I remained in the shallows, only keeping a steady rhythm and slight grip. Searching for that moment when Luke's body would surrender and fall into the grips of pleasure. He curled his neck like a crane, off to the side with his chin pasted to his shoulder, his fingers lax. **

**Reveling, but not impassioned.**

**All of the sudden his hand cupped mine, still in motion around his cock. Tightening the tunnel my hand had made until he winced and squirmed with the pressure. "Ah," I hushed with comprehension. He'd been handled with tepid hands and the non-committal thrusts of a now cured blind man. This ivory skin hadn't been touched right. It had been abused from the inside out to the point of being engulfed with the inability to feel anything. Luke needed that complete euphoria, he'd never had it. Never had a lover who could give it to him. (But then again…neither had I)**

**Determined I lodged my hand in the tight space of the wall and his tail bone. A finger dipped just into the cleft of his ass, he arched eagerly as I jacked up and down his length. A groan was growing in the back of his throat, his hips rocked encouragingly. "Unh," he uttered, licking at his bottom lip. **_**Yes? **_** He sighed with a quiver as my fingers drew closer to his entrance and intook with a gasp while my hand continued to sail back and forth along his length. They were soft, supple noises—just breaching the place I wanted to take him. **

**Without warning I quickly put a finger inside. The reaction was immediate, he arched like a bow string and moaned something that sounded suspiciously like an "oh fuck". His hands grappled on my back, scraping my shoulder blades in the hottest way.**

"**Like that?" I purred into his hair.**

"**Hng," still gripping around the intruding finger, he took hold of my hand and led me deeper.**

"**Is that what you want?" I asked, a tad breathless.**

"**Yeah," he pleaded in **_**the **_**most sex-infused voice that just ground into my bones "Yeah…" he repeated shyly. My stomach flipped with desire, **_**you just wait kid, **_**and promptly obliged.**

Reid's fingers played ceaselessly inside me. They twisted and hurled me into fits where I just wanted to scream; as if that could somehow relieve me of the torture I didn't want to stop. His palm pressed along my dick, keeping pace with the other goings on behind. I fought to keep down a moan when he added a third digit to the knuckle, but failed as the loud noise made its way out. I felt even more of a blush break out on my already flushed face, but Reid didn't seem to find the noise offensive. In fact he just pulled me tighter, rubbing himself into my hipbone and exhaling laboriously through his teeth.

Trying to catch another groan before it escaped too soon, I bit my lip—but at that moment he struck something deep inside me, something filled with nerves, and what little resolve I had to contain myself shattered.

"Hah," I moaned hopelessly, throwing my head back so hard I think I concussed myself. Though my eyes were closed, I could feel the smirk on Reid's face, but found I didn't care. I could feel his hot erection pressed flush against my bare stomach, slipping in our combined sweat. I wasn't the only one lost to the cause of sanity. His fingers jettied relentlessly, brushing that small patch of nerves every few moments, driving me crazy. I was hard pressed to care about anything besides the immense pleasure coursing through me like never before.

I'd never had this. Ever. Never was I ready to collapse into a quivering mess at the mere touch of fingers, lips, or just his peeking scruff scratching my neck. I'd never been so exposed with myself in want. It scared me in the way where I couldn't contain it, I couldn't rein in the way my muscles twitched or the erratic moans. The utter lack of control.

Then all of the sudden, the massaging digits slipped out with a painful slide. I bit down on the juncture of Reid's shoulder and collarbone, expressing my displeasure. Without saying a thing, he crawled a hand to the back of my neck and gently squeezed. I bit harder. His other hand roamed down my spine and rested over my pulsation hole. I inhaled long and slow, waiting for him to prod me again, but instead he spoke. His voice was sandy, like he hadn't swallowed since the bathroom door had opened.

"I wanna do something," his storming eyes rose to search mine, washing over my flushed face.

"Kay," I tried to say, it was lost in the harshness of my breathing, but I nodded twice.

All of our connected body parts separated, letting the air goosebump my sexed up skin. I made to move, but Reid's expression arrested me as both his arms plastered me to the wall at my biceps. From there, he inched his grip down to my forearms, still keeping steady with a burning gaze. Then, my throat tightened heartily as he lowered himself down to his knees before me. I followed him with my eyes, panicking; Dr. Reid Oliver intended to suck me off?

"Uhm," I said, seemingly without oxygen in my lungs, "you don't need to do this." He removed his hands from my arms and planted them in my naked hip bones, with use of my limbs returned I placed my own hands around his strong jaw bone, lightly pulling to bring him back up where I thought he should belong.

"No," he trailed, drawing a line with his nose down the 'V' of my hip to tease my crotch. "I think you need it," and without warning took my length deep into his throat.

"Fuck," I almost screamed, but really it sounded like a drawn out moan.

My eyes closed, savoring the burning moisture swirling around my dick and the light puffs of air peppering my lower abdomen from Reid. He sucked and bobbed languidly, slow and nerve-wracking, like memorizing the most private part of me was all he was looking to do. His mouth pulled almost fully off, where he flicked the tip. I shuddered with a moan, wringing my one hand in his hair while the other stroked along his jaw. The muffled slurps of Reid going down on me were destroying my body's will to remain upright. My knees buckled, skin skidding down tile, I tried stop my descent, but my rubbered muscles weren't up for the job.

Reid's hands squeezed my ass while he guided me to lie on the floor, adjusting so that his mouth never abandoned its occupation. I was breathing hard and arching rythmatically with the pull and suck of his skilled mouth. Every so often I made a combination of letters that sounded like his name to me, but I was so lost to any sensation aside from the occasional brush of his incisors, that it may not have made it past my lips.

**Luke's creamy thighs splayed tense on either side of my head, I breathed in the musky scent of him and soap. The hairs on the back of my neck refused to settle down, as each time he moaned 'Reid' they spiked back up. His voice was full and raw, colored with reverence for the sexual hell I was putting him through as I took him as deep as I could. He silenced with a grunt. Stilling while I slowly pulled off, couldn't have him cumming yet. I wiped at my mouth with the heel of my wrist as I crawled over top of him.**

**His hand remained warm on my face. I liked it there, so when he started to take it back, I slapped my own on top of it. He looked at me with a gooey smile in his eyes that almost made me give him is hand back and forget the whole sentimentality that overtook me. But, his thumb brushed under my eye and I couldn't. I was sure our eyes matched in intensity, both our eyes mirrored blown out pupils and the serenity in knowing this was finally happening. Finally.**

**Luke tipped his head up just as I dipped my own down to meet in a kiss. They fit like searing puzzle pieces, our tongues peaked at each other and retreated in a sultry series of nips and wet partings. He curled his arms around my head and I likewise, the whole time scooting himself closer to fuse us below. It wasn't until my bare member made jolting contact with him, that I pulled off his mouth and said with no meager effort, "I can…" truly knowing the answer. **

**His voice rumbled sexually, with a weakness I hadn't ever heard from him, "Yeah, do it."**

**He was plenty moist from the previous activities, but going in dryer than I would have preferred would make this first time rough. I stopped kissing his neck and face long enough to position myself, ready to take this boy that I didn't think could ever possibly be in this arrangement, or possibly be mine. **_**Well, one down, **_**I thought. My vision ran the length of his fair skinned body, stretched partially up the wall and knees to his chest. Luke's skin shone with sweat, rolling slyly along the ribs of his muscle. His body looked weak with all the emotions of need seeping through him, but his chocolate puppy eyes blazed. He bit his lower lip, and I eased in.**

**I missed the initial response of his, my eyes shot closed as I fought not to lose it inside him. My heart boomed and my breath came in short bursts, I pressed in and out. I could only rely on my other senses, because seeing his face—if the noises he was making were any indication—would push me over the edge embarrassingly soon. I felt and heard a whimper when I angled my hips up, he coiled around me with devastating heat, I groaned.**

Reid groaned loudly as I gripped all around him, falling to his elbows. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth pouted open slightly, as he moved closer and farther from me, pumping us back and forth. There was a knotting fire in my abdomen that warned me enough. I knew with all of this unmanageable push and pull, I wouldn't be in it for the long run. _It's just so good, _I tried to excuse myself. But I couldn't release, not yet, not with Reid only seeing the inside of his eyelids. Not without him know how utterly he had destroyed me in the best way possible.

I propped myself on one hand and slapped my other hand to his neck, his eyes fluttered open to meet mine and I connected our lips halfway. Our kiss not coming to a full close as my orgasm was wrenched free of me on a final thrust, I moaned pitifully, like it had caused me pain, almost dropping back to the wall. But Reid grabbed my head and seized a powerful kiss, carrying me through.

**He grew still and supple in my arms as his orgasm ran its course. He contracted and constricted all around me inside, I looked one final time to his eyes, crashing into the musty, coffee colored pools while I came. Right where I wanted to, deep, deep inside the man I lo—**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**We lay on the bathroom floor, occasionally running a hand along the others stomach, arm, face, whatever presented itself. Not saying anything, just being, as our sweat cooled and dried.**

**Luke drew a long crooked line from my adam's apple to my navel, he head nestled comfortably under my chin. I wasn't sure how we'd come to be in this signature, cheesy-ass 'we just made passionate love' position, but I was disgusted to find that I didn't mind. He flattened out his palm just above my still tensed groin area and rubbed soothing circles until it calmed. "So…" he mused, ceasing the movement, "what…does this mean for us." **

**I pursed my lips. I knew what it meant for me. But he'd have to fight tooth and nail before I'd ever express it verbally. "It means that you took a waste of a shower because now we need another one."**

**I guess he either dropped it, or somehow—in his Luke-knows-everything-you're-feeling-no-matter-what-you-actually-say way, already knew. So instead of forcing some contrived answer out of me, he laughed and said, "We?"**

**I smiled down at him, "Yeah."**

_**We.**_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Jesus Christ, I am so sorry this took like….mmmmmm, a year? Whatever, shit happens and here it is. I think this might possibly be the end. Yes. Yes, it is definitely the end. I like this place I have them. In their own ways, they've resigned to be with each other. So this is good enough for me. I'll probs end up writing other one shots, but I'm done with this particular branch. Hell, they might even be one-shot based off of this story. Thanks for reading, my dears!_


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